Unknown
by The.Clown.That.Smiles
Summary: When Paul meets a girl at a bar, interest rises within. His charm doesn't seem to work, and Paul doesn't give up until he gets her attention. Paul/OC...  As I can't think of a title this will stay as unknown for now.
1. Lou's Bar

_Disclaimer - Don't own The Lost Boys_

25th Jan 2013 (Update)

I'm slowly going through this story with a fine tooth comb as after re-reading this chapter I have noticed bad punctuation and grammar.

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_Santa Carla - 1983_

Lou's bar.

It wasn't an unfamiliar place in the wild city of Santa Carla. On a backstreet, Lou's bar was a small, dangerous, wild and full of violence little place. Mainly gangs, bikers to be more precise, came to this bar but now and then the odd person would go there. The sort that looked completely out of place. The sort that screamed 'I don't belong here.' Nine out of ten they had gotten lost or were checking it out by someone who had stupidly mentioned it to them. Half left within twenty minutes and the bar would be noisy with laughter as the person scarpered away in fear at what a certain someone had done to them. It wasn't a surprise to the regulars if a fight broke out or, if say, someone was beaten up by three bikers for saying something insulting. Lou's bar was known to all of the locals, very few tourists, but those who did know of the place steered clear of it. If it was wild times, violence, trouble making and racing you liked then Lou's bar was the place to go.

As usual, the atmosphere in and outside of the bar was loud with shouting, hollering and laughing. Vicious snarls came from the dogs that were fighting outside and groups stood around them, cheering on the dog they had bet on who would tear the other to pieces. Few checked out each other's bikes, others raced up and down the empty long street, shouting at the top of their lungs and shoving insults at the other who would get in front of them. Glass bottles were smashed, groups sat around tables doing lines of coke and others sang and downed their whiskeys and beers. Bad to the bone blasted from the juke box and a pair of hands were broke when someone went to turn the song over. Darts were repeatedly thrown at the board; the clatter of balls moving around the snooker table could be faintly heard over the racket of the bar and the occasional sound of extremely loud hooting came from the far circled table at the back of the room.

The guy standing against the wall, smoking and talking with two others stopped mid sentence when a slim lanky figure bounced its way towards the jukebox. His black heavy boots banged on the ground as he moved and his fingers tapped against his legs to the music.

''Don't think about turning that song off, kid.''

The guy turned away from the jukebox and a hand went through messy, greasy blonde hair. ''It's got about a minute left and I'm turning it.''

''If you know what's good for you, you'll piss off.'' Grounding out his cigarette on the floor, the big beef of a guy took a step away from the wall.

''No, if you know what's good for you, you'll fuck off.'' The blonde took a step forward, his face full of laughter but his eyes told something else. ''You want your fingers then walk the fuck away.''

A glass was smashed against the corner of the snooker table then and the guy pointed it at the blonde. ''Walk away now, punk or I'll be the one who cuts your fingers off.''

The people sitting at the back of the bar watched the exchange in silence and the one shook their head. Lou watched, waiting for the fight to break out that was surely to come, knowing straight away which one was going to win. Blood was going to be spilt for the third time that night and this time he wasn't going to be the one cleaning the shit that was about to go down. The blonde was a regular, along with his gang of friends and Lou had seen many fights with him involving others in his bar. The blonde always won but it tended to always get out of control more than usual. Mainly because he was a fucking junkie who lived off fighting and once one fight went down with him and someone, he started up with everyone else.

The blonde changed the song and chairs went flying across the room then. Bottles smashed to the floor, tables were turned over and others got involved when they got caught up in it all. The blonde grabbed the cue off one of the customers and snapping it in half, he grabbed one of the guys and pushed it sharply through his arm. It dug deep within the flesh and parts snapped as the blondes grip tightened on it. Blood ran down the cue, dribbling onto his fingers, and he discreetly brought his fingers to his mouth, savoring the taste.

The guy shouted out when the part of the cue was removed from his skin and he was violently thrown to the floor. Fights scattered all over the bar then and the group sitting at the far table stood up.

A grin came onto the blonde's face when the beef of a guy moved towards him. Within a second he had a hold of him and beefy's hand was placed down onto the snooker table.

A knife was produced and the blonde slammed the guys hand back down onto the table when he struggled. ''Ready? This is going to hurt.''

The knife came to his fingers and singing along to the music that was playing, he began to cut through the guy's flesh, ignoring the scream that suddenly erupted. Blood spilled, and it ran down the table, forming a crimson puddle at the end. The second one was cut and his eyes followed the fingers that began to roll. He went for the middle finger but an arm came around his throat, pulling him backwards. It tightened on him and the knife that was still in his hand, stabbed through the flesh of his own skin. The arm was removed when a scream came. The blonde turned and removing the knife from the brunettes arm, grabbed a hold of him and slammed him onto the counter.

''All I wanted was to turn a song, friend.'' The blonde grinned wider and dragged the guy along the bar, ignoring his shouts as glasses and bottles smashed, causing pieces to cut into his scalp. ''Just one song.''

The blonde stopped and threw the guy across the room. Others moved towards him with heavy silver chains then and knifes were produced. No one moved, but waited. He threw his knife away and removing his blazer, took a step back. Lou grabbed it from his hands and with a shake of the head, moved away from him. Was he hell getting involved in the shit the junkie was going to fucking cause in his bar.

Blue eyes went to the one guy and, with a grin, he held up his hand, wriggling his fingers. The grin came wider onto his face as the guy swore out threats, but made no move to follow out with them. Instead, he clutched his hand that was missing fingers and pouring with blood. Blue eyes went back to the others.

''God damn junkie'' The blonde laughed out loud at the voice that came from behind him. ''You don't know when to stop, do you?''

More laughter came and he shrugged in response. ''These bastards started it, not me. All I wanted to do was turn a fucking song''

''It's never you, Paul.'' The person leant their chin on his shoulder and grinned a Cheshire cat grin at the guys. ''David's gonna be pissed.''

''Fuck it, I'll pay Lou for the damage this time.'' Paul grinned when the figure disappeared from behind him and, instead, came to a stand next to him. ''Joining in on the fun, are you?''

Marko grinned and looked up at Paul. ''No, I'm making sure you don't go overboard''

''Who cares? Lou don't give a shit as long as we pay for the damage at the end.''

''I think he would if he has to explain to the cops why there are dead bodies in his bar.'' Marko shook his head.

Paul laughed again. ''I wouldn't go that far.''

Marko gave him a look. ''You get carried away.''

Paul went to reply but the feel of a fist cracking him in the nose made him turn away from Marko. All were on him then. A pair of hands grabbed him by the t-shirt and within a second he was thrown across the bar, crashing straight into the table. Bottles fell, smashing over his head and Paul blinked in surprise, then cursed when blood began to seep down his forehead. He fought the urge to change and go on a killing spree. More blood dribbled down his face and his tongue licked it away from his mouth. His hand shot out when a thick, heavy silver chain swung towards him, and pulling on it hard, the owner went crashing down onto the glassed and bloody covered. floor. Fights were still going on all around Paul, blood was spilled, people were unconscious on the floor, groups had taken it outside but still it wasn't enough for him. Feeling dizzy from the loss of blood, Paul grabbed the guy up off the floor. The chain was wrapped around his neck and he pulled on it hard, feeling pleased at hearing the guy making choking sounds. His hands clawed at the chain, and Paul pulled harder on it in response.

''Enough'' Marko dragged the remaining two guys back, just as they went to close in on Paul. Their anger was turned towards Marko then and he let the first one get a hit in. They weren't so lucky the second time. Both were on the floor and Marko's boot repeatedly laid into them.

''Paul, let the guy go.''

''Fuck off, Marko.'' The chain tightened. ''Someone's gonna pay.''

''Yeah, and not here.'' Marko gave the guy one more kick and then moved towards Paul. ''You want to get us exposed? Time out before you lose it completely.''

He gave him a pleading look. ''Just let me kill this bastard, please? Just this one, lousy fucking piece of shit.''

''Paul'' Marko warned.

It was too late. The chain was dropped to the floor and the guy fell down when Paul hit him hard in the face, using his complete strength. He retched violently, gasping for air, all the while his hands massaging his bruised and swelled neck. The guy stopped suddenly when he was kicked hard in the face. Blood spilled and something cracked. It never stopped there. A black boot came down on the guys head again and again and again. Paul never stopped even when he went immobile. He felt his face change as the anger formed within and his kicks becameharder.

''Stupid, asshole.'' Marko dragged him backwards. ''Lou, give us a hand.''

''Again'' Lou popped up from behind the bar and he shook his head when his eyes landed on the guy on the floor. ''Fucking hell, Paul, I can't keep doing this. One day someone's gonna drop me right in the shit. I ain't going down for murder because of your temper. God damn junkies, god damn vampires'' Lou muttered and grabbed the guys' arms as Marko grabbed his legs.

''Where we taking him?''

''Dwayne's waiting by the back door'' Marko looked around the bar, noting no one had even noticed what Paul had done.

Marko looked towards him. ''Don't think about moving.''

Paul never listened. The minute Marko and Lou disappeared, he was gone in a flash. His eyes took in the fights that were still going on outside and leaning up against the brick wall, he produced a joint from his jean pockets. There was no doubt about it, David was going to kill him, but if Max found out he was truly fucked. He knew David said the last time if it happened again he wouldn't lie to Max. The way Paul felt right at the moment, he couldn't have given two shits about Max. The wound was healing on his head and the dizziness had now gone but he was thirsty now. His face, hair and forehead was caked in crusty, dry blood, and the first joint seemed to go straight to his head.

The bar door slammed open and the guy who Marko had been laying into locked eyes with him. ''You! You fucking stupid cunt. It was you who started all of this and it's you whose gonna pay.''

Paul put his joint out. ''Didn't you learn from the first time? I thought my brother did enough damage. You come back for seconds?''

Other guys came to a stand next to him then, all giving him dangerous looks. Paul shook his head and then laughed wildly. This time, it was his turn to be on the floor. More joined in, kicks were given, fists came into contact with his face and the unmistakable scent of blood reached his nostrils. His eyes found David who was leaning against the spot he had been in not minutes ago. As always, in his hand was a packet of Marlboro, a cigarette was brought to his lips and he stared at Paul in his David way. Yeah, when the bastards were finished laying into him, David was going to kill him, even more that Max had somehow found out what had been going on. He managed to bring three guys to the floor but even more appeared. Other fights were breaking apart and all were joining in on the current one where he was literally getting his ass fucking kicked. The loss of blood from before and now was really bringing the monster to the surface. He needed to feed before he lost it in front of everyone. Another two guys were brought to the floor and Paul's boots came into contact with their faces.

''Who's laughing now you stupid punk.'' Paul groaned when someone hit him in the face again. The laughter and shouts got louder around him until whistling started up. He frowned when someone moved off him. His eyes caught a flash of white and he groggily sat up, rubbing his face. Spitting blood on the floor, he looked through the group still around him, trying to see what that white was. Jasmine, the faint scent of laundry detergent and lilacs reached his senses and he blinked. A woman was around. Chickies Paul thought with a hungry grin.

''What did I say?'' Marko appeared in front of him and pulled him up from the ground. ''Fucks sake.'' Marko shook his head. ''I ain't sticking up for you this time. You deserved those beatings. I am not saying anything when the shit hits the fan. Max is beyond pissed at you''

''Yeah, sure'' Paul pushed him aside and his eyes landed on a petite figure that was surrounded by guys who were giving it hungry looks. It moved away from the people surrounding it and one grabbed its arm, pulling it towards him. Paul moved then, ready to play the hero. His eyes went over its body, taking in the white pumps, white dress with dark blue flowers on it, and then to its face.

Damn he thought and eyed it some more. Coming to a stop by the guys who were still surrounding it, Paul pushed the one away.

''Piss off, Mate.'' The guy pushed him back. ''Get your own piece of ass''

''Excuse me. Ass... kindly get your god damn hands off me.'' The girl slapped the one guys arm and side stepped the other who circled around her like some hungry vulture. ''Honestly, have you never seen a woman before?''

''Not someone as fine looking as you. You seen the girls in this place?'' Another guy grabbed her. ''Mmmm, you're a beauty, not like the girls who hang here. Beautiful, delicate, flower''

Her hand connected with his cheek and she was let go in an instant. Paul grabbed her then, dragging her away from the group.

''A way to get yourself killed, chickie.''

''Chickie.'' The girl said in disgust. ''Killed?''

Paul laughed. ''You never been here?'' He looked her up and down. ''Course you ain't. People like you don't. Guys who come here won't give it a second thought to beat on a woman. You slapping one won't go don't well with them.''

She wrenched herself from his grip and flicked her hair behind her shoulders. ''Well, thank you for...saving me...'' She rolled her eyes. ''My hero. Although I really would...love to talk, I'm afraid I'm looking for someone.''

''Dang'' Paul said with a grin. ''I just hope he ain't as hot as me.''

''Hmmm.'' She looked towards the bar. ''Well, I don't know what he looks like. He goes by Paul, that's all I know. I have a message, well, a package for him. Know where I can find him?''

Paul's grin widened. ''You're looking at him, babe.'' He moved around her then.' 'What can I do for someone like you?''

''Figures'' she muttered and produced a brown envelope from her handbag.


	2. Boadicea

Whilst my sister was in op, I started writing the second chapter, but then sort of went off it. Anyway, my sister has had her third operation now, (All over, thank goodness!) and was actually sent home much earlier than planned, as everything came out good. So at the moment, I'm joyfully happy, plus had time to finish this chapter. :-) And I now have time to write again! But I may fall behind to look after her, as she still hasn't fully recovered.

I do hope this chapter will not be a disappointment to you all, and Anna...thank you very much for your review! I most appreciate it. x

One more thing. I have to admit something. I HAVE to! I contradict myself, as I said to myself and others, I shall never do an OC/Love story again, and...

You've all heard this, but I have to admit I am, because I just do, haha. So, yes, I am contradicting myself when I moan that I'm not one for OC/Love stories, and say that I rarely read them (unless a good one catches my eye) and there is me doing one. Just admitting that I am.

I also noted quite a few spelling errors that were glaring at me when I went through the previous chapter again. Grrrrr. If you see any in this, please, do tell me. I'm so nitpicky. I slap myself time and time again when I spot them. How can I miss them!

RAMBLING OVER!

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Chapter Two

She pushed the envelope into his hands, and then began to twist her hands together ''Christine told me too give this to you.''

Paul peered inside and he joyfully whooped. ''That's the shit right there.'' He folded it in half and, slipping it into his back pocket, looked at her. ''Why's it in an envelope?''

''Since I didn't want it smelling out my bag.'' she answered with a turn of the nose. ''That stuff is strong.''

''The whole point, babe.'' Paul rifled through his front pockets. ''It's meant to get you fucked.''

He handed her some notes, which she made no move to take. She stared at him with a slight blank face, but seeming a little unsure. Cleary she wasn't one to know how drugs went around. Cleary she didn't do drugs herself, and he guessed Christine had given her very little information on her business as a 'dealer'. Paul's eyes wandered around when feeling something that seemed to be looking down at him from a microscope. Eyes landed on David, Marko, and Dwayne, who were watching him from the doors of the bar, and Paul found himself winking. He looked back towards her, seeing that same look on her face. He got David's message loud and clear seconds later. _No dicking around tonight, you've done enough damage...Max wants us now!_ Paul blocked him out.

''For Christine.'' Paul's hand outstretched towards her, waving the notes. ''For the drugs she sorted out for me. Shit like that ain't free, babe. Tell her she's a fucking diamond''

Blinking, her hand grabbed the notes from his, and she nodded. ''I shall. Goodnight.''

Paul's eyes left her body, and he, too, blinked. He blocked her when she made a move to leave. ''No introduction? Christine never told me about you.'' Paul looked deep in thought. ''Nope, I'd definitely remember someone like you.'' He grabbed her hand, and bringing it to his mouth, planted a soft kiss on it. ''Nice to meet you, beautiful.''

''Hmmm.'' Her nose turned up. ''Charmed''

Paul ignored the look that came onto her face when she eyed his appearance. She was looking at him, and it was a hot girl at that. Paul's girls, the sort he went for, were ones with big boobs, long legs, and one, firm, yet squeezable ass. Although this girl didn't hold all these things, she was still his type. He wasn't bothered at what sort of girls stared at him, whether they were his type or not. They were chickies either way, and they were looking. If it wasn't riding, dancing, singing, playing the guitar, and blood; attention was what Paul craved from girls. The girl standing in front of him, however, wondered how Christine had come to know someone like him. Her eyes raked through his appearance again, taking in every, little, tiny detail of him. There was no change of expression on her face as she did this, only the turning up of her nose even more. She found herself snatching her hand that was still in his grip. Giving him one last look, she put the money into her handbag, and walked away, ignoring his little group of friends who watched her as she passed them.

Paul, being Paul, couldn't let it go. Damn it was she leaving him with nothing. He at least had to get a name, or a fuck, or a god damn grope of her boobs. Paul wasn't bothered which one he got, even if it was just a name. He could always get the rest of those things from her another time if he chose to, but seeing the way she was, he had his doubts she'd be the sort to want to have a good time. It all screamed at him. Innocent, purity, little miss goody two shoes.

He strolled beside her as she walked down the street, and he found himself rolling a joint. He lit it up then, and she moved further away from him when the smoke clouded around her, causing her to cough slightly. ''Do I get a name, beautiful? All should I keep calling you that? It's only fair I get a name. You know mine so it's-''

''I'm not one for fair'' she replied and smoothed down her dress. ''I'll be sure to pass that message to Christine. Goodnight, Paul.''

That was her cue telling him to kindly piss off, but Paul never listened. He still walked beside her, not paying attention to where they were going. All he was looking at were those legs that went way up to her armpits, and those biteable and fuckable titties. Paul still walked beside her another ten minutes later, and with every little smell of weed she inhaled, she started to get even more annoyed. He was like a lost dog that wouldn't leave her alone, and in her eyes, the dog wasn't adorable either.

She felt his eyes moving up and down her body, and usually this would have embarrassed her greatly, as she wasn't used to guys staring at her quite like he did, but for some odd reason, it just increased her annoyance. She found herself annoyed at Christine too, annoyed that she had been sent to do that one stupid thing. Drugs, it always came down to drugs. She just wished it hadn't of been that one customer of her friend's. He was absolutely vile, even more so when he eyed her like some starving dog. She was just waiting for him to drool, and she wasn't the least bit comfortable walking down an empty road with a strange man, in the middle of the night; especially one who looked like he was just stopping himself from jumping her bones. She could see him devouring every little thing about her, and, she guessed unlike most girls, she didn't, or wasn't one to find it flattering. He was still doing it minutes later, and then the annoyance faded, and red tinges started to appear on her cheeks. Her eyes went towards him, and he was staring at her so intently, she was sure he didn't know he was doing it. She suddenly scowled. She couldn't say it was her he was looking at. Annoyance coming back, she swung her bag over her shoulder, deliberately hitting him in the face. His eyes left her cleavage, and he grinned a shit eating grin.

Good lord she thought. What kind of people does Christine get mixed up in?

''So, beautiful, do I get a name now? It's just a name.''

Her feet stopped moving and she looked up at him. ''If I tell you it, would you most kindly leave me alone?''

Paul blinked, and then found himself laughing. His arm came around her. ''Sure, babe. Whatever.''

''Boadicea'' she muttered and removed his arm from around her.

''And she led her army through Britain, bringing destruction down upon her enemies. Roman invaders or something like that, right?'' Paul peered at her. ''Unusual name you have.''

She found herself blinking in surprise and she peered back at him. ''Where did you get that from? '' She scratched the back of her neck. ''Was that you knowing the meaning behind my name, or you actually knowing some form of history?''

Paul didn't mention that he had actually gotten that little piece of information from racking her brains, that the minute it came from her lips, he dived into her mind. That was best to be kept a secret, unless he chose to kill her straight away, which he didn't. Mainly because she was his dealers...Paul didn't have a fucking clue how the girl fitted into Christine's life, and he didn't plan to kill her until he at least got her attention, or some of her delicious booty. No, killing her hadn't even come to mind at all, nor did he plan to for the time being.

''I know some history'' Paul said with a shrug. He inhaled deeply as he took a long drag on his joint.

''When did Boadicea reign?'' She asked after several minutes of silence. ''You know she was the queen of the Iceni tribe?''

Paul stopped short and stared at her, the once, shit eating, grin slipping entirely from his lips. Her bright green eyes blinked in innocence, waiting for an answer.

Bollocks Paul thought. Better say something.

''I ain't got a clue, babe. My brother is the one for history. Catch snippets of things when he chooses to mention...something.''

''Oh.'' Her face showed she actually didn't care for his answer. She held out her hand, sticking up her nose for the third time that night, but he could see, although she didn't want to do it, it was some sort of...posh thing she did. He looked down at the white silk glove she must have slipped on when he was busy eyeing her some. It was all coming together as he looked her up and down again, when he had picked up the expressions she had made during their conversation. Hot or not, Paul had no chance of scoring with her. It was easy to see she was a posh bird, all stuck up, and uptight. Damn it though, he had to have his arms around her warm naked flesh sometime, and those tits...They were perfect in his eyes. Not too big, (not that he didn't mind those, the bigger the better) and not small when he couldn't even get a handful. They were just right, and they were just begging for a face to be dived into, and Paul was all for it...

When he did nothing, she withdrew her hand, but stopped when he suddenly grabbed it, and like the last time, planted a soft kiss on it. ''Well, I hope we see each other again.'' He pulled away from her. ''Fancy going out for dinner sometime?''

''I'm sorry!'' she looked at him. ''Do I have stupid written across my face? I don-''

''Know me'' Paul finished and closed the space between them. ''That you're being cautious because I could be dangerous, or a -He grinned wide- Psycho. Say, what are you doing with me now? On a empty street might I add.''

She looked around as he said this, and moved away from him. ''If I remember, you kept following me. Still are following me.''

''Babe, this is Santa Carla, if you're not aware.'' Paul moved back towards her. ''This is the Murder Capital of the World. You see the sign when you came into the skirts of town?''

''I did'' she answered and watched him walk around her. ''I've been here before, many times actually.''

He stopped behind her. ''Really? I ain't seen you before, and I never forget a face. Know every single person in this town...easy to remember who comes and goes, and who...**stays'**'

''Okay.'' she turned to face him, and shied away when she found his face close to hers. ''Your point is?''

''My point is you shouldn't be walking around at this time of the night, especially how you look.''

A small frown came onto her face. ''Meaning?''

Paul laughed. ''Meaning, babe, your sex on wheels. Yummy prey for sick people.''

Her hand was waved. ''I can handle myself.'' Paul's face turned to amusement as she said this, and it increased when she pulled something out of her bag. She held it in her hand, and he found himself laughing. The girl was to innocent for her own good. He dared not to think what sort of parents she had. He could guess she was the type who had been mummy cuddled all her life, the type that had been told there were no monsters in the cloest, and was told that the world was good. He could see her saying her prayers, always having everything planned and organised. Okay, half of those things he had taken from her mind, but... Uptight was an understatement with him. She was all shiny and clean; again- one posh chickie. Still, Paul wasn't giving in to her wishes. Rejection wasn't something that came with him often, in fact rarely. No matter what it was. If it was just taking a girl out to eat, for a ride, a fuck, whatever of those, the answers were never in the form of rejection. Paul could easily say his ego had been wounded slightly, and it wasn't something he liked, or was use to. He didn't know why, but he could admit, no matter who it was, whether he disliked them slightly, he had to have everybody liking him.

It was just the way Paul rolled. And so far, he could tell he had been ticked off on her list of the 'good boys'... in her books. When it came to things like this, most times, Paul had the patience of a sin. Like he really cared who this girl was. He could get ass anywhere at anytime, all hotties as well. It was just the rejection that got to him. He couldn't walk away feeling...rejected. All he wanted to know was, what she meant to Christine, and why she was in Santa Carla, and then...work on getting her sucked into his charm. Paul wasn't that bothered if he didn't even get a screw out of her, as long as she noticed him, that was that;his main goal. Paul could easily, and he had before, hang with girls without dining on them, or fucking them. He loved chicks no matter what, and on several occasions, he had hung with them for a night without doing one of these things. All Paul wanted was to actually be properly notcied by this girl, a hottie and a stuck up bitch at that.

The scurrying of feet brought him out his reverie. A light fog found it's way onto the street, and glass crunched underneath his boots as he moved. The sound of a trash can clattering to the floor made him turn, and his eyes landed on a black small figure that moved across the road. He looked at her then. The temperature in the air had dropped slighty, leaving it cool, and he expected her to be shivering. She was actually watching him with a slight puzzled look. His response was a wide grin.

''Pepper spray won't protect you, Doll. Not from this place.''

The puzzled look vanished then. ''It's better than nothing, right?'' She slipped it back into her bag.

''Right'' he agreed and laughed again. ''Pepper spray!'' The moment you got a hold of that, they'd have you.'' He shook his head. ''Let me walk you home at least. I won't feel any better until I know you're safe''

''Wow, you're laying it on thick.'' The roll of the eyes came. ''Please, I'm quite capable of walking by myself. Thank you though for accompanying me some of the way. You're rather...

''Boring, a total prick...'' He interrupted. ''And as I just said, this is Santa Carla.''

She found herself staring at him then, wondering why he was being so nice. It was obvious, even to her, and she wasn't the least bit interested. She hadn't come to Santa Carla for guys, or partying; none of those things that went on in the town every night, that was the thing that became a tradition to do when visiting. All she wanted too do was get back to Christine, but Paul kept slowing her down by subtly asking her questions, and despite wishing she would just finally get back to her friend's house, she kept finding herself stoppping and answering, or asking things.

''Look.'' she moved towards him. ''You seem okay, really, you do, but I'm not interested in anything. I only came to you because I was doing something for Christine, and that's it.''

Paul surprised her by laughing. ''Babe, chill out. I wasn't after anything. I apologize for being friendly, ma lady, really I do. Can't have ago at a guy for being friendly and looking out for a beautiful woman''

She scanned his face to see if he was somehow teasing her, but it seemed he meant every word that he said. ''Yes, well thank you for that. Really, thank you, but...Now, I have to go.''

Keeping the disgust off her face she tiptoped and lightly pressed her lips to his cheek, feeling the heat rush to hers. Goodbye, Paul.'' she laughed softly, and smiled the first smile he had ever seen on her face

''Thanks again'' She laughed once more and then walked away. This time Paul didn't follow. He still stood where he was, watching her leave, noting the way she seemed to skip slightly. Her feet pounded softly on the floor, and he still stayed where he was when she rounded the corner and disappeared from out of sight.

''One point!'' Paul pumped his fist in the air. ''Ha, you got somewhere, you devil. A kiss and a smile!'' Paul re lit his joint, and grinned widely. Maybe he had more of a chance getting this girls attention than what he thought.

''Did you see her titties?'' Paul kept his eyes on the spot she had been in when the guys came to a stop behind him.' 'Man, I gotta get me some of that ass, or something''

''Judging by your conversation, the girl seems to dislike you, Paul.'' David came to a stand next to him. ''Does the rejection sting?''

Paul made a face. ''I'll get her under my charm, you wait. I got a kiss though, and a smile. she looks more hot when she smiles.''

''Hmmm. Perhaps she was doing it because, the way she is, its politeness in her case'' David answered and brought a cigarette to his lips.

Marko snickered and smacked him on the shoulder. ''Bud, you've got no chance. Not even yourself, believe me. I've seen these type of girls. They're the type I go for, and-''

''Whoa!'' Paul turned to face him. ''All I want is her attention, proper attention.''

''Why can't you just leave it?'' Marko nicked the joint from between his fingers. ''Who cares if some girl didn't notice you. It's one sensible girl at that. I wouldn't say she's your type personality wise. She's as wooden as anything. To-

''Uptight, posh, snobby, innocent.'' Paul waved his hand. ''Yeah, I pretty damn got everything from her mind. I can't take rejection, bud, I just can't. It's me!''

''You love yourself far too much'' Marko said with a shake of the head. ''Rejection...What is she to your dealer?''

Paul stopped. ''Bollocks! I was supposed to find out. Probably a friend I'm guessing, but Christine ain't ever mentioned her to me.''

''So, how are you going to go about this?'' Dwayne muttered and kicked a glass bottle against the wall, watching it smash to pieces

''Show her I ain't after anything, but a friend.''

Marko laughed loudly at his comment. ''And are you after something?''

''Her attention'' Paul said.

''Right.'' Marko laughed again and smacked him harder on the shoulder. ''Just her attention''

''Hey!'' Paul scowled. ''I don't bang and eat every chick I meet. ''God, there'd be none left in Santa Carla otherwise.'' Saying that all those tourists we dine and fuc...He blinked. ''Attention first, and then I'll go from there.''

''All planned out, huh?'' Marko handed him back the joint. ''Every time you cease to amaze me when it comes to the things you'd do when it's around girls.''

* * *

Right. I didn't want to make Paul as always seeing girls as food and sex and stuff. I mean, to me, I see him doing those things, but not every girl he would come across. I mean of course, Paul being Paul, he would forever be checking a girl out if she's good looking but, in this chapter, I did want him to sort of see her as... I don't know. No, I mean genuinely be a slight gentleman. How did it play out to you?

Anyway, what was the interaction like between the two? Did it come across as natural, or awful and rushed?

Yes, my OC is a bit...uptight. Okay, very, but I made her like that for the story to come along. Paul hates rejection, and I wanted her like that from a change by some OC's thorning over the boy's, following them everywhere, instantly loving them...blah, blah, blah. You get my drift. Yes, I shall be going through this again, as I feel you will spot some words incorrect.


	3. Confrontation

Thank you for all of your understanding about time. It's just some readers can get annoyed when you don't update in, like, a week, but if I do what readers asked, and rush, the chapter will not come out good. I only post things up if I am at least ninety eight percent happy with my work, and I always take it slow and put care into my writing. Although you may, some time, have to wait for some weeks for an update, the chapter should hopefully make up for it. Again thank you to all of those who reviewed, and thank you again Anna. I was smiling widely when coming to the end of your review. Just what I needed at that time.

Sunny, again, thank you for spotting those things out. I corrected the misspelt word, and will get right onto the other things. x

Okay, so I have chosen three names for a title.

Soulless Monsters. Living Dead. Boadicea's Barrier.

A reviewer kindly helped me with thinking of a title, and she thought of the last one. I'm going to let you readers decide, as I can't seem to.

* * *

_Good morning, Santa Carla! Are you all awake, ready to start Friday morning? Temperatures are scorching, and the sun has already found its way into the bright blue sky. The king tells you to get your sun screen, grab a towel, and head off to the warm, inviting, beach. Don't miss out the concert tonight, and remember to bring your costume. It's all lights, sparkles and glitters there, so you know what that means. Head down to Rosette's fancy dress store and start looking! Now...a song to start the weekend!_

A hand moved through the air and it smacked hard down on the alarm clock, stopping Sid screaming about Anarchy in the UK. Eyes snapped open, and blinking, they looked around the small, cosy, room. Cool breeze blew towards them and eyes moved away from the picture hung up on the wall. They stopped at the window, seeing the curtains blow lightly. Sitting up, a frown came onto their face. More breezes fanned towards them, and the smell of freshly cut grass and wild flowers hit their nostrils. Boadicea could see the bright sunshine behind the closed curtains, and with a sigh, she wiped her hand across her sweaty forehead. The breeze did very little at attempting to cool down the baking, stuffy, room. Her white tee shirt clung to her sticky body, and her hand went through her messy brown locks. Droplets of sweat ran down her neck, and grabbing some tissues from the box on the bedside cabinet, she wiped the moisture away. The noise of cupboards opening and closing, and the sound of music came from downstairs, alerting her Christine was already up and about, whipping up breakfast. She was scared to go into the kitchen at finding out this information. Both shared a love for cooking, and at times, Boadicea would make a buffet for two, but not quite like her friend did. Did she dare to venture into the kitchen now?

Running a hand through her hair again, she sat up, a small yawn escaping her dried lips.

She couldn't remember opening the window, unless Christine had come in at some point? With that same frown, and an unsure shake of the head, she pushed the covers back. Her bare feet softly hit the white carpet, and with another yawn, she stood up. Feeling groggy, she tiredly made her way to the window, wiping away her sleepy eyes as she did so. More breeze blew, bringing a stronger scent of flowers. She blinked when light instantly poured into the room, shining straight into her eyes. The curtains were pushed back further, and she peered outside. Kids played across the street with skipping ropes and balls, and a group of girls played hopscotch just outside the house, giggling and singing as they did so. She watched a bee fly around by her face, buzzing nosily as it did so. Her head turned towards the sky, noting the bright blue with white puffy clouds. Another baking hot day was upon Santa Carla, and just once, she wished it would rain. Yawning, she slipped her head back into the room and shut the window. A knock came on the door when she grabbed her nightdress from the wardrobe, and slipping it on, she opened the door.

Christine shook her head upon seeing her friend still not dressed. ''Just awoke? My dear, it's gone seven. A bed at this hour. Really!'' she walked into the room, and Boadicea moved towards her chest of drawers.

''It's not late'' she answered and grabbed a grey jumper and a ragged pair of jeans. ''Was there any post for me?''

''Downstairs'' Christine said, and peered at her friend. ''Did you get the package to Paul okay?''

Boadicea straightened up. ''Oh, um, yes. Everything went...fine''

She saw understanding come onto her friends face then, and she watched a grin form on Christine's lips. ''I hope he behaved around you. My love, don't take anything to heart with Paul. It's nothing personal, it's just how he is. Why, what happened?

A small blush crossed her cheeks, and she shrugged. ''Nothing. He's...'' she sat down on the bed. ''Vile, Christine, absolutely vile! I mean, he's so...what's the word?'' she frowned. ''He loves himself.''

She found herself thinking back to their exchange from the previous night, and a slight distasteful look came upon her face. Vile was not the word she would have used, but she didn't want to be rude about one of Christine's friends. He made her feel uncomfortable, and when she arrived back home, she found herself quite afraid of him. Granted, he acted all charming, said kind words, offered to accompany her home...but there was a weird look deep within his eyes, and Boadicea didn't find it pleasant at all. Not only that, she disliked the way he was. She knew, could tell when they talked, he was the sort of guy who found himself attractive, probably one who spent hours in the mirror. If it wasn't rude people she disliked, it was vain ones. Of course she was thankful that he offered to walk her home, whether it was with good intentions or not, and she appreciated him helping her when she was surrounded by, possibly, dangerous men, but she disliked him. Hate was something that she found hard to feel, it was a strong word with her, but she did, quite often, dislike people. Paul had become one on her imaginary list. The images of him popped into her mind, images of him wearing that grin, that hungry look in his eyes...She blushed and then frowned. He was a trouble maker she realized. When she was walking towards the bar, she heard the shouts and the sounds of things being smashed before the place had even come into view. A fight was going on. Immediately coming to a stop by the bar, her eyes had sought out him, as he was the only one not involved in the fight that was happening not three feet away from where she stood. But it was easy to see he was one of those who caused problems. He hadn't noticed her when she observed him, as he was so engrossed on watching the fight. She hadn't missed his bloody appearance, it was hard not to, and just when she went to ask for help, a fight had started with him then...

She shook away her thoughts. No, it was easy to see. Paul was a fake, fake at caring for people, his charm was fake...She guessed all those words that were supposed to flatter her had most likely been used a hundred times on other girls. He most likely had them recited or something of the sorts. It was easy to say he was after something off her, and she turned her nose up at those thoughts of what it was. He could try all he liked, she had no interest in him, and had no wish to show him any attention at all.

''Earth, to Boadicea!'' A hand was waved in front of her face. Blinking, she took in Christine's form. ''Get showered, dressed, and then come down for breakfast.''

Nodding, she grabbed a towel from the bottom draw, and made her way into the bathroom. The water was warm and inviting against her skin, and as she washed her hair, she thought of what plans she could do for the day. She didn't particularly want to venture out into the blistering heat, but being stuck in the house wasn't appealing either. She was never one for the boardwalk either. It was to packed and wild, and several occasions when she had gone there, she would leave the place being sore all over from the elbows that had violently jabbed into her as she moved through the busy crowd. No, the boardwalk was not on her list of things to do and places to go whilst she was in Santa Carla. The beach seemed more up her street, but she wasn't in the mood to go there. Breakfast seemed the first thing on her mind. Eat and then see what the day would bring.

Wrapping the towel around herself, she came to a stand at the mirror. She ran her hand across the glass, wiping away the condensation. Upon seeing herself, she turned away, and began to get changed, humming slightly as she slipped on her jumper.

* * *

Paul was the first to wake, which was unusual as he was normally the last out of the four to venture into the lobby. Feet hitting the floor, the first thing he did was grab a joint from out of his blazer pocket. A lighter came then, and bringing the joint to his lips, he lit it up.

''Awake already!''

Marko's voice floated to his ears, and he joined Paul, instantly snatching the joint from between his fingers. He grinned when Paul protested and, with another wider grin, he made his way out of the tunnels. Paul followed, and when both came into the lobby, he instantly dived upon Marko, knocking both to the floor. A foot came into contact with his gut, and he rolled off his brother, landing on the dirty floor. Marko laughed, and Paul's foot shot out, tripping him back down when he stood. The joint rolled across the floor, and Paul grabbed it. It was snatched from his hand, and Marko brought it to his lips, grinning as he did so. Paul scowled, and hit him hard across the head. Joint thrown away, face changing, Paul was then socked in the face. Both standing, Paul laughed, and wiped the blood away from his nose. Laughing louder, he charged at Marko, who dodged him. Appearing on the other side of the lobby, he shook his head at Paul, flashing him a cheshire cat grin.

Paul caught him in the end, and threw him across the lobby so he landed into the fountain of junk. Just as both went to charge at each other, David's voice floated to their ears. Demon faces disappeared and Paul winked at Marko before throwing him a joint. Plonking himself down on the couch, he lit up another, and elbowed Marko in the side when he sat beside him. Just like the two, David instantly grabbed his packet of marlboro, and sitting in his throne, he lit one up. Dwayne stood behind him, and took the cigarette that David offered him.

''So...what's on the agenda for tonight'' Paul asked after several minutes of silence.

''Let's see...'' Marko pulled a thinking face. ''With you? Food, boardwalk, girls...speaking of girls-''

''Yes, speaking of that'' David interrupted. ''I see you disappeared from us last night. ''Where did you go, Paul?''

''Find me some chickies'' Paul answered with a grin.

David stared at him in silence, and Paul itched his head when a tingling sensation ran through his scalp. All stared at him then, and he frowned, and then pulled a guilty face. Yeah, he was pretty much busted. There were no secrets hidden within the pack, and attempting to hide something never worked. The consequences could be severe as well. It just wasn't something that went on in their family. If it was liars David couldn't stand, it was secrets being hidden he wouldn't tolerate in the pack. Paul knew better than to hide secrets, after the last time he had tried to cover up a kill that had gone horribly wrong, nearly exposing all. Paul had learnt his lesson from that, and he had gotten off lightly. He thanked his sorry ass that he was still young to being a vampire back then, but he knew never to hide something like that again. Paul was hiding something now, but it wasn't important or any cause of concern for his family. Still, he was, once again, stupid for thinking he could hide it.

His hand itched across his head again when David dived deeper inside his mind. He didn't bother fighting back, or trying to lock away anything. It was no use anyway, David had more skills and experience at attacking the mind than Paul did.

''You know what I think of liars, Paul'' David said and brought his cigarette to his lips. Marko shook his head, and turned away, telling him he wouldn't be sticking up for him this time.

''It was of no importance that's all'' Paul answered and brought his feet up onto the couch. ''I think you hear quite enough of my talks about girls.''

''Sometimes, I wonder if you do have a brain'' David leant forwards. ''But are incapable of using it.''

Marko snickered, and then put his fist to his mouth, muffling it.

Paul shrugged. ''Took you long enough to figure that out.'' He grinned widely. I-

''You're a liar, Paul, and a poor one at that'' David cut in.

Paul shut up then, knowing not to say anything else. The grin fell from his face. He knew not to anger David. None liked seeing David pissed. They all scarpered away when he was on a war path. No need to anger the dragon Paul always thought when things like that occurred. Sometimes, Paul being Paul, just couldn't help himself. He knew not to shut his mouth when it was needed to be firmly shut. On several occasions he had received a good hit off one of his brothers for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Unlike Marko, Dwayne and David didn't have the patience with him. Anger was easy for Paul to cause his brothers. It was unintentional, but half the time he didn't think before he spoke. Most of the time, Paul thought with his dick instead of his brains. With him, he rarely thought anything over. It was jump straight to it, not think of the consequences, and many times, his brothers had had to save his ass on lots of occasions. It was impossible to have peace and quiet when having a brother like Paul. There was no other way with him. You either rolled with it, did the shit he did, or put up with it. If it wasn't sex, blood, partying and riding, nothing else mattered to the wild stoner. But on top of all of that, it was his mouth that made him get a good hiding on the boardwalk, get punished by his sire, along with falling out with his leader, having Marko stop talking to him, although that was rare. Long ago, Marko had learnt to take it all to stride. It was never deliberate with Paul, he never wanted to anger his family, but he just never thought before he opened his mouth. It was easy for his brothers to say he was a dumb asshole most of the time. Not to David though. David chose Paul because of his brains. He found him to be the smartest in the pack, and when real big problem came, he actually used his brain. Drugs were half of the cause with Paul, and the fact he never though over anything, but underneath the dumb act, he had a brain, and a smart one at that. The asshole never knew how to use it half of the time that was the problem.

''Kindly, don't lie again, even if it's of no importance to any of us.'' David said. ''Why did you go to the girl's house?''

Paul blinked and then shrugged. ''If she's playing hard to get, I need to know what she's into.''

''And what did you find?'' Marko asked.

''Very little actually. Paul sighed. ''It's tidy, not one speck of dust. It was all neat and...tidy. She likes reading, and by the looks of it, sewing. There was hardly any...girly things around. Got a look at what she wears though.''

''And?'' Marko said.

''And, it's all frilly stuff, all dresses with flowers. It's all...innocent. That girl is completely innocent. I don't think she could be bad even if she wished it.'' Paul grinned. ''Her lingerie though...she could model for me in those any day.''

Marko rolled his eyes. ''I should have seen that one coming.''

Paul put an arm around his shoulder. ''Come on, man, she's begging to be taken. I know she is.''

Marko laughed. ''And you think she'd want you to be the one? I picked up on her thoughts. Didn't even have to do that. It was written all over her face. She thinks your disgusting, Paul, and like I said, you have no chance with her. We wouldn't even have a chance with girls like that. They're good girls and they don't like guys like us. They move away from anything bad, and they're...'' Marko broke off and laughed. ''No chance.''

''Hey, I can get any girl. I have the skills and, yeah, she's gonna be a challenge, but I'll get her swooning. I have to go around to Christine's soon anyway. I'm running low on drugs...Ha, ain't that great. I have an excuse to see her.''

''You're the most pathetic guy I've ever met'' Marko said. ''All this over a girl...I'd sooner eat her than anything else''

''Nah, I have no wish to kill her for now. Just wanna get her attention, so I stated last night to you.''

''Well, I've heard enough about this girl for one night'' David stood up. ''Ready, boys?''

''As ready as I'll ever fucking be'' Paul stood up, and grabbing Marko into a headlock, dragged him out of the cave. ''Let's fucking party!''

* * *

Okay, so this chapter is probably a bit of a disappointment compared to the others, but I don't want Paul and Boadicea interacting in every chapter. It has to be spaced out, and you readers need to know more info on Boadicea and stuff. Hopefully the next chapter will be better. There will be answers on why she came to Santa Carla, etc.


	4. Racing, Girls, and Blood

Again, thank you so much for all of your reviews. I really do appreciate it :-)

Anna - *Smacks forehead* I am so stupid! Truth is, I'm not actually that familiar with the Sex Pistols. I have an album, but have only listened to it once. I like the cover version of Anarchy in the UK by Motley Crue, (AM IN LOVE WITH THEM ;) ) but that song wasn't performed by them until 91... Thank you for pointing that out though. I was one hundred percent sure it was Sid Vicious who performed it. Mistake. :D

Yes, you're all dying to know about Boadicea and, like I said in the previous chapter, it will start coming out. I won't spill everything about her in one chapter, because I've got to fit it in right. It makes it more interesting when things are being kept hushed... :D

This chapter is long to make up for the disappointment of the previous one. I do hope this is an improvement to the last.

* * *

The glittering lights of the boardwalk slowly came into view as Paul sped closer towards it, feeling the wind whip through his scruffy hair as he went faster. Marko rode beside him, hollering into the night with his usual grin smeared across his lips. He shouted at Paul, egging him on for a race. Paul jumped straight to it. The wind lashed through him, his ears could hear nothing but its wild screams as he sped ahead of Marko, making sure to raise his middle finger high. Trees whipped past him in a blur, and his eyes could barely pick up their outlines as he passed them. Paul shouted insults at the cars that passed him, sticking his tongue out and raising a finger when the drivers called him a crazy asshole and all sorts of other offensive words. He picked up Marko's laugh from behind him and he went faster, leaving dust in the warm air as he sped along the country lane. The chains on his blazer banged madly against each other, the wind screamed louder, and it violently blew threw him, causing him to shout wildly into the night. Its response was to scream with him, and Paul found himself laughing joyfully, relishing the taste of freedom he felt. The scents of wild flowers reached him as he passed fields growing long sunflowers. Feathers, pollen, and dust swirled in the air, and Paul's hands slipped when Marko rode into him. He blinked and put his concentration back on the road. He swerved when Marko hit him from behind again, hollering like some wild animal. Paul's response was to call him a mop and he laughed when he heard his brothers snarl. Marko caught up with him and, with a grin, Paul got close up beside him. Cars beeped their horns, more insults were thrown at the pair, and the two swore back, raising their fingers. Paul hit Marko hard in the arm, and grinned when he received a hit back.

''Come on!'' Paul shouted over the screams of the wind. ''You can do better than that, midget!''

Marko hit him again and then sped ahead of him, his curls blowing as he went faster. Paul, with determination on his face, went the fastest the bike could go, blocking out its angry snarls. He began to bang his head to the song he played in his mind. His lips began to move, and catching up with Marko, he began to sing loudly. Stones crunched as their bikes rode over them, crushing them to complete dust. Pollen blew up Paul's nose and the scent stuck in his mind. Hunger started to form within, and picturing his fangs sliding into some hot girls neck made it increase. The monster roared inside, not stopping until it got what it needed. Blood...blood...blood, that's all Paul started to think about. He needed to feel sweet, precious, blood running down his throat, needed to hear some poor person's screams. Chickies came to mind, and the monster roared louder, slowly creeping its way to the surface. He started seeing crimson everywhere.

Unlike the rest of his brothers; Paul had to feed every night. He couldn't go a night without blood; gluttony was a trait with him. Nine out of ten they killed more than what was needed. They didn't always kill to feed. Paul, though, ten out of ten, killed more than he needed, but most of the time he fed off every victim he killed. Not like his brothers, who fed, then killed others just because they wanted to, because they wanted to hear their screams and feel their fear. Paul did too, but he was a greedy bastard who could have fed and fed and fed, continuously drank until he threw half of it up. It never helped when the stoner fed off junkies who took needles and popped pills. Feeling already trashed, he'd get even higher when he fed off those sorts of people. Countless occasions he had been knocked out from it, or just threw everything up. Did he ever learn from that? Paul never did. Even when smelling certain people, he still selected the ones who were high on foreign substances and other nasty shit. Paul killed, slaughtered people, innocents, even when he was full. There were only two rules when it came to killing with him. No children and no pregnant women. Although old people weren't really his type of thing, not because he had some shred of remorse not to kill the old bags, but their blood tasted like powder and Paul liked to bite into soft skin, not pruned, wrinkled ones. If he was hungry enough, he'd eat anything, any vampire would. Santa Carla would never run dry with blood, so Paul never had any worry of something like that happening. Accidents had happened though, and it was probably the one time Paul had actually felt a deep, deep, emotion for one of his victims. David despised kids, Marko didn't care either way, but Dwayne and Paul were the ones who had a love for them. It was Dwayne who had given his brother some comfort when he killed one. Paul never forgave himself, and he still didn't to that day. It wasn't done because he was being greedy again, wasn't done because he wanted to just kill for fun. Paul would have given those two up in a flash when it came to children. The child was the one who had come across him, and being in the middle of a feeding frenzy, taking over his complete self, it had cost a life he wouldn't have dreamed of taking.

It was still something that could easily happen again, but Paul was much more cautious when feeding, especially when it came to feeding on the beach. He didn't want a mistake like that happening again.

He found himself looking up at the blackened sky, seeing small red dots slowly move along it. Stars winked down at him, and clouds moved past each other, some connecting together. The crashing waves of the ocean became louder to Paul, and the boardwalk lights flickered and flashed brighter when they cut through a field, soil spraying high in the air as they sped along it. Paul started to hear wild screams, music, laughter, and the sounds of the rides moving. Crashing through the wooden gate at the bottom of the field, he did a sharp turn, seeing the beach up ahead. He twisted and turned through the trees, hearing twigs and branches snap as he sped through the woods. He ducked, moved his head from the thick, hanging, branches. His eyes sought out people when they left the woods, coming close to the pier. Beating hearts danced their way to his ears, and it was like an endless drum in his head. The song had long disappeared, and Paul found himself focusing on the people partying on the beach and listening to their pounding hearts. Wet, gunky, sand sprayed over his pants as he zoomed along, foamy bubbles splashed over the tires of his bikes when he got close to the edge of the water, breathing in its scent. The monster still roared and Paul hadn't loved the boardwalk as much as he did now. He found himself screaming joyfully, and Marko joined in. They began to laugh like hyenas, and they pumped their fists in the air. They rode straight through a fire that was lit, and both ignored the shouting and booing of the people who had been sat around it. Sparks flew, rubbish crackled, and Paul flashed them a wide grin, before turning away. The Giant Dipper came properly into view and he watched it moved along the track, hearing screams come from the people who were currently riding it.

''If you forget something again, you can go back by yourself'' Marko shouted. ''I could have fed by now.''

''Well, someone got lucky tonight'' Paul shouted back. ''I just saved some poor asses neck-''

''I might go and have a snack on your obsession'' Marko cut in with a malicious grin. ''I'd sure like to taste her blood. Pure blood is hard to come around Santa Carla. Everyone is tainted-''

Paul gave him the finger. ''She's not an obsession. And you're a fine one to fucking talk. That's fucking rich coming from you. Obsession...what about your obsession with girls...find an innocent...pretend to care for them, make then think you love them...'' Paul rammed into him. ''Obsession!''

He was rammed back. ''Don't knock it until you try it. Pets are fun to have''

''I can't stick with one girl, it's not me'' Paul responded and sped faster when they came onto the boardwalk. ''Come with me to Rosette's fancy dress store?''

''Why the fuck do you want to go there?'' Marko said and watched the people jump out of the way from nearly being knocked down.

_''Crazy ass punks!''_

_''Assholes!''_

''Let me run that bastard over'' Paul said and gave the people the finger. ''For the concert.''

They stopped outside Video Max and Marko turned to look at him. ''You're not seriously thinking of dressing up, are you?''

Paul jumped off his bike and shrugged. ''Why not? I know exactly what I'm wearing''

''Do I dare to ask?'' Marko said and leant up against his bike. His eyes already started to prowl around, skimming over the people that passed him. None, so far, were appetising. A grin came onto his face when a trio of girls passed him and began to giggle amongst each other when they looked at him. His eyes looked over their appearances, taking in the miniskirts and low cut tops that gave him an eyeful of their cleavage. His grin widened and he put on a shy look as he waved his black gloved hand. They giggled louder and Paul looked up from the joint he was rolling. His eyes raked their appearances, and he winked when the one looked at him.

''Hot chickies'' He looked back down at the joint. ''Dress up with me, Marko?''

Marko kept his eyes on the girls when he responded with a: ''No''

Lighting up the joint, Paul looked back at the girls and he winked at them again. There were no blondes and their boobs weren't big enough, but they were still hotties, so Paul wasn't complaining there. Food was winning over his thoughts of a screw so none would be lucky to get a fuck if he decided to drag them away from the boardwalk. Puffing on his joint, his eyes went into the store, watching his sire serve a customer. Max wore that happy expression on his face and Paul continued to take long drags on his joint as he listened in on their conversation. Nothing new; same old boring shit. Passing the joint to Marko he stood up, and called out a message to Max. He glanced through the window and gave a slight nod. Paul moved then, making his way around the back of the store. A candyfloss back swirled in the air and Paul's hand shot out, grabbing it. He began to rip it to pieces with his fingers, hearing Max move towards the back of the door. It opened just as he came to a stop in front of it, and he grinned up at Max.

Max rubbed his specs against his shirt.' 'What do you want, Paul?''

''No, how am I doing? Paul grinned wider. ''Honestly, father, where are your manners?''

''I haven't got time for your games tonight, son.'' Max continued wiping his specs. ''I'm busy.''

Paul looked into the store, and he grinned as Maria passed the door and glanced towards him. She smiled and then moved away.

Max gave him a stern look. ''Stay away from her, Paul.''

''Relax old man. I've got my eyes set on someone else. Besides, it ain't me you gotta worry about. Poor old Dwayne is the one who likes her.''

''Unlike you, Dwayne has some control'' Max replied coolly. ''Now, what do you want, Paul? Make it quick, I need to get back into the store.''

''I need some money.''

Max shook his head. ''I told you I am not prepared to fund money for your drugs.''

''It's not for that. Look.'' Paul shook the bag of weed. ''Got some here, although I'm running extremely low, but I've got enough money to get some more.''

Max sighed. ''So why do you need more money? I gave you some last week. It should last you four for a few more nights''

Paul pulled a guilty face. ''Yeah, we all kind of spent it that night''

''In one night!'' Max pulled a stern look. ''I'll be having words with David later.''

''I need money for the concert tonight, to get a costume.''

Max blinked in surprise. ''This is unlike you to come for me for something like that. Don't you usually steal clothes?'' Max's face turned suspicious. ''What are you up to?''

''Hey, nothing! I just wanna get a costume for the concert.''

''Alright, but I expect you to be here when I close up. I want to see a receipt and if you buy something else with the left over money, I want a receipt for that as well.''

''I ain't gonna buy drugs'' Paul pulled a hurt face. ''Honestly, your lack of trust in me stings, father.''

''When you can learn to be trusted, I won't do this'' Max replied.

Paul snatched the roll of money from his hands, and upon seeing Max's face, grinned wider. ''Thanks, daddy.''

Max sighed. ''Get out of here.''

''Don't need to tell me twice.''

Paul practically skipped towards Marko and then blinked when he found him to be not leaning up against his bike. The trio of girls had disappeared and Paul found himself moving along the back of the stalls that were all in one big line across the boardwalk. Candyfloss, cigarettes, popcorn, greasy burgers, chips, and human sweat reached his nostrils and Paul lit up a joint, blocking out the smells. His eyes went around, and tonight Paul wasn't being picky. The hunger had started to hurt, and all Paul wanted to do was sooth it, satisfy the monster within. It was still roaring and it crept closer and closer to the surface. He blinked as he felt his eyes change and his eyes landed on a figure leaning against the brick wall of a sweet shop. He moved towards it, eyeing it as he did so. The girl glanced down at her watch and then began to bite her nails. Paul dove into her mind, and upon reading it, grinned. The girl had been stood up, but it was no worries, Paul was happy to fill in the space. He dove into Marko's mind then, and laughed quietly at what he was hearing. Invading his privacy, Paul pulled out, cursing the midget to the fiery pits of hell. He scored already. Fuck and dine on one of the chicks. Bastard Paul thought. Did Marko wait for him? Oh, no, not Marko. Did the girls stick around hoping to see him again? Paul cursed again. He breathed in deeply when he got closer towards the girl, and he did a once sweep over of her appearance. The black skirt was tight around her toned legs, and his eyes moved up her chest, stopping at her breasts. At hearing her heartbeat, his eyes moved to her neck, seeing the pulse jump underneath her milky skin.

Blood...Blood...Blood... Paul breathed in more of her scent. Putting the end of his joint out with his fingers, he came to a stop next to the girl and leant up against the wall.

''Got a light, dolly?''

She turned to look at him, and with a sigh, she handed him a box of matches. She turned back to face the crowd, and he watched her glance down at her watch, seeing disappointment come onto her face. He dived into her mind again, and all he got was her worry and self consciousness. Was it her? Was she ugly? Did he just joke with her, deliberately do it to make her look like an idiot? Paul scanned her appearance again. The guy, whoever he was, in Paul's opinion, was an asshole. She was one hot mama, and there had to be something seriously wrong with him if he deliberately didn't want to turn up. If it was any other night, a night where he had already fed, he would have fucked this little slice of heaven, and kept her on his arm for the night, hoping her man would turn up. No, Paul had no plans with her of those sorts. Just hearing her screams of terror, feeling her sweet blood pour down his throat...breaking bones...hearing screams...feeling fear...tearing at her flesh.

He pushed the thoughts away and, striking a match across the box, brought it to the joint. ''If I were you I'd give the guy a slap when you next see him.''

Paul slid the matches into her hand and grinned widely. ''The guy's got a problem, Dolly. You're as beautiful as the...sun.''

Paul frowned and then grinned wider.

''Who said anything about a guy?'' she quietly said and lit up a cigarette.

Paul laughed lightly. ''It's written all over your face''

He did a long bow. ''Name's Paul, gorgeous.''

A smile came onto her face. ''Nice to meet you, Paul''

He raised a brow. ''Do I get a name?''

She smiled wider. ''Imogen''

''Nice too meet you to, beautiful''

''Wanna get outta here?''

She blinked and, with excited eyes, nodded her head eagerly. Paul grinned and took her hand, leading her down the boardwalk. People moved out of the way from them and he looked around. Her feet tapped on the ground as she moved and his arm came around her shoulder, pulling him closer towards her. He felt her heart pound in her chest, and the hunger started to become out of control. Bringing the joint to his mouth, Paul took a long drag on it, his eyes prowling around the boardwalk. It was too early to feed on the beach. Messy and there were too many witnesses. Paul, although staving, really didn't want to take his bike anywhere. It was Santa Carla! There were so many shadows to hide in, and to feed off people. They moved further off the boardwalk and they began to walk up a road. Paul didn't give a shit where he was taking her, as long as it was away from human eyes. Her scent blew towards him as she swirled a lock of her hair and he quietly growled. He felt her skin get goose pimples, and he slipped off his jacket, draping it over her. She smiled in gratitude and Paul winked. Inside, he was getting annoyed. Right at the time, he really couldn't have cared about making some hot girl swoon. He really didn't want to act out the shit he usually did. The blood. Just the fucking blood from her...He bit on his tongue hard as he pictured tearing at her neck. All he got from her now was excitement and a feel of being wanted. The monster began to climb the ladder, wanting to reach the top. Damn it Paul thought. He cursed himself, cursed that he hadn't fed the previous night. It was rare for Paul to get pissed, blood was most likely the only thing that did make him angry when he didn't have it, minus his family being hurt or in danger. He turned vicious if he didn't feed, so it was always the top priority on his list when he woke. Paul hated feeling angry, it just wasn't him. Even when someone was out to get him, when he got into a fight or if someone trashed his beloved bike...There was annoyance. Oh, yes, the stoner felt annoyance, but unlike his brothers, who would have been completely fucking raged, Paul took it in his strike. He'd bring revenge down upon them, act out a sinister torture on them, but it was all fun and games. It was enjoyment and once it was done, it was all left alone. When he was angry, even David didn't want to deal with him. Rare it happened, but it wasn't a nice sight to see. Paul hated anger, feeling it himself anyway. It just wasn't with him. He was the joker of the pack, the one always grinning, dancing, partying, and having fun. Sure, Paul had lost his temper on numerous occasions, but it wasn't anger. The last time he had felt immense rage was when Marko was harmed badly, and when he had first become a vampire.

All part of the change David had said, which had only increased Paul's anger at the time, but Marko, his brother and his best friend, when he was nearly killed, the true, dark, just completely evil side of him was unleashed. He never fed off the hunters who had a hold of his dear brother. Oh, no, he tortured them slowly, first starting with cutting off their fingers, and then hammering their toes...By the end of it all, Paul was drenched from head to toe in blood, not one droplet of it had passed his lips. That true side of him had never been unleashed again, and Paul went to all costs to keep it that way.

Just as they come up to walking past an alley, Paul dragged the girl into it. She was pushed up against the wall, and his lips attacked hers as his hands ran up her skirt, caressing her bare skin. Her tongue moved with his, and the monster moved up a step.

_Blood...breaking bones..._

Paul's hands went further up her leg, and slipping his hand underneath her panties, a finger slipped deep within her. She gasped and the kiss became harsher.

_Just tear at her skin, peel it away and gulp that blood._

Another one was added and a moan passed her lips. The kiss broke and Paul's lips came to her throat. His nose breathed into her skin, picking up the scent of roses. Her blood was clean, free of drugs, free of diseases...

The monster climbed up another step of the ladder.

_Feel her pain and fear, make her scream._

Paul began to plant soft kisses along her skin as his fingers ventured deeper within her.

_Crunch through flesh, spill blood, feel it rush down your throat._

His lips went to her neck and he felt his face change. Fingers went out of her, the monster climbed the top of the louder, and Paul snarled. Fangs sprouted and wrapping his arms around her tight, he sunk them into her skin. She screamed in terror then, and Paul felt her beating heart pound wildly around in her chest. Her fear was like sweet fucking music, and Paul savagely ripped at her neck, causing blood to splatter all over his face. It slid down his throat as he began to greedily take large gulps, feeling the monster jump up and down in rejoice. The hurt, the weakness, the starvation... all began to dim and he felt his body tingle as more blood gushed down his throat. Her body began to slack, and his hand came around her mouth when she still screamed louder. His arms tightened around her back and something snapped. Blood poured down her neck, soaking her white blouse in crimson. Her once beautiful brown, kind, eyes were now full of fear...

Her skin began to get cold and Paul heard her heart start to slow, but the sweet fucking music still went. She was pulled closer towards him when she completely slacked against him. He tore away at more flesh, his arms tightened on her, getting as much blood as possible.

* * *

Still hungry, but feeling better, Paul moved around the boardwalk, looking for potential prey. The music was deafening to his ears, his eyes picked up tiny things, from the way a strand of hair blew across someone face, to the little ants moving on the ground, all the way to tiny fibres of cotton and skin in the air. Hundreds of beating hearts sang in his head, the smell of humans reached his senses, and his eyes looked over at all of the people passing him. Marko's voice made its way into his head and he made his way back behind the stalls. He patted his pocket, looking for his lighter, but stopped when he felt the roll of money. Max had given him more money than what he needed. Not like Paul was complaining but it was no fun when he had to have receipts for everything he would buy. The list of things he wanted to get had pretty much been crossed out. Sure, he could buy them anyway, and shows the receipts with a middle finger raised, but getting grounded, having his drugs confiscated and then having to stay with Max was something Paul wouldn't take too lightly to. He was a bear with a sore ass when he didn't have his drugs, staying at his sire's was his own personal hell, and being grounded rid of all the freedom he had. He could spend the money as Max had said, but it just wasn't allowed to be drugs and most likely not booze.

He leant back up against the wall of the sweet shop, the place he had been not twenty minutes previously. He felt Marko nearby and he lit up another joint, inhaling deeply as he took a long drag on it. Some girls stared at him as they passed him and Paul flashed them a grin and then a wink. The boardwalk became busier, people scurried up and down it like ants, and their footsteps were like pounding elephants. His ears picked up whispers, people speaking on payphones, the sounds of pinball machines, and laughter all the way from the beach. The smells became stronger in the air and more people stomped their way around the boardwalk. Brown paper bags swirled around in the air, dust floated towards him, and specks of candy floss moved around on the floor, being mushed up to pieces by the feet that trod over it. Teenagers sat around benches with black markers in their hands, scribbling graffiti, girls walked past him, giggling and laughing, fights broke out, people zoomed down the boardwalk on skateboards and bikes. High pitched screams made him wince, children's cries and louder laughter thumped in his head, and taking another toke on the joint, Paul blocked it all out.

''Hey''

Paul blinked and turned his head. ''Yeah?''

''You aint' seen a girl waiting around here have you? Black hair, brown eyes...''

Paul shook his head, hiding the grin he felt sliding onto his face. ''Sorry, bud, I ain't.''

''I said I'd meet her here. I was running late...great, she probably thinks I've stood her up or something''

Paul noted the bunch of flowers in his hands and then scanned his appearance. ''Plenty more fish in the sea.''

She was certainly one dead fish. Paul inwardly shrugged. If only the guy had turned up on time.

''No, no one can compete with this girl'' The guy threw the flowers to the floor. ''Guess i'll try her home.''

Paul nodded and watched him leave. His hands grabbed the bloodied roses off the ground. ''Waste not, want not''

He straightened up when a familiar scent hit his nostrils. Ignoring Marko's voice in his head, he found himself moving. His eyes glanced around everywhere and he breathed in deep, following the scent that would lead him to the owner

* * *

Okay, so I did plan for it to be longer but rattling on to much can make you readers lose interest. I don't know why, but I didn't like this chapter, as of the previous one. Is it me?


	5. Hero saving the girl

Again, thank you so much for your reviews. :-) And thank you for all of your concern for my sister. Gosh! I was overwhelmed by you kind, caring, people. She's fine! Up and about. She's in a pissy because she has to have two weeks off school, haha.

Anna - As I've been passing this along to people...you popped into my mind. There's a site called Markedbytheboys. You're a lover of Dwayne you said. There's a story I've been reading on there called, Thompson family troubles. Just thought I'd pass it on to you, as it's one brill read, easily one of the best on Dwayne, and it might be something you like :D

Sunny - Ha, the names I use in my stories are real friends, lol, minus the name Boadicea, as we've had a talk on that :D When I got to writing that scene, I was like, shit, what do I call her. I was going to name her Georgia, as my friend popped into my mind, but her younger sister is called Imogen so..it seemed to fit and it stuck...Urgh! Rambling :/

This was going to be dedicated to someone, who is just awesome and will always have a place in my heart in this fandom, haha, but I don't think, as of recently, they bother with FF. It makes me sad :(

So, I just went through this, as...grrr, everything got muddled up. I finished writing this at about five in the morning, so cut me some slack. Pweez.

* * *

There was no mistaking that scent, not anywhere. Despite hundreds upon hundreds of smells tainting it, mixing in with it, Paul was one hundred percent sure who it belonged to. His boots banged lightly against the dirty railing as he sat on top of it, and his eyes were trained straight in front of him, waiting for her to walk out of the comic store. It wasn't an unknown place to Paul. Marko, on countless occasions, had dragged him into it when he felt the need to buy a comic. It was owned by two, stoner, hippies who were baked twenty four seven, leaving it up to their eleven year old, twin, sons to work their butts off night in and night out. Two army brats as Marko liked to call them, only because he tended to find it hard to keep his cool around them. Paul didn't give a shit that he had two humans glaring at him as if they willed him to be sent to the fiery pits of hell. Marko though, Marko couldn't stand having two, snot nose, little brats sizing him up and down, glaring and sneering at him. Having something that was meant to be food, something he wouldn't kill, giving him filthy looks...Well, the little part of the demon crawled to the surface when he went in there. Paul just laughed at them, teased them...Enjoyed seeing the glare increase on their child like faces. He'd ask Marko could he keep one of them, which would cause them to start hissing and spitting like some angry cat. He waited to see millions of hairs puff up around them, see them get out their claws. Angry, little, kitty cats he liked to call them.

Hums of voices danced their way to his ears and Paul blinked when her scent knocked him flying. Virgin blood...It was the best blood there was. Innocence was something a vampire loved to consume. It was pure, clean, untainted by any speck of evil, and there were no words to describe how it tasted. It was similar to the rare scents they came upon, the rare scents of human's blood that lured them in. No, her blood was enticing, but not her scent, so Paul found it pretty much a piece of cake when he attempted to talk to her outside Lou's Bar. There was pretty much only one thing he wanted to do. Drag her away somewhere and fuck her senseless, suck on her perfect, round, titties. She didn't seem much of a talker so that was fine for Paul, as he wasn't much of a listener, especially when it came to girls who talked about, well, shit all. Tie a rag around their mouth as he fucked them, or close his ears to them. The only time Paul really listened to chickies were when they were moaning his name or screaming in pain. All just blood and sex with them really. He had his nights when he'd hang with girls and not kill them. He'd listen sometimes, but it went in one way and straight out the other. Marko sometimes accompanied him, but when they spoke to him, behind the grin he wore and the charm he spoke with them, he was just thinking of ripping them to pieces. Marko had some serious issues, especially when it came to women. He was sweet, sick, twisted, innocent, and one evil son of a fucking bitch, so Paul thought. No, Paul knew. Countless occasions he'd turn to Marko and say,

''You seriously need to get fucking laid. You're one horny midget''

This then usually led Marko to give him the finger. Sure, Marko liked girls just as much as the next guy, but when it came to them opening their mouths, well, they didn't say much, especially if they were alone with him. How could they? Marko was already tearing at their throat, getting those dark pleasures from their pounding fear and screams. It was the games he did, the way he kept his pets that made Paul shake his head. It pretty much showed Marko liked girls just as much as Paul, but unlike Paul, when it came to having girls, it really showed how sick the midget was. Sex was very much at the bottom of his list with his pets. No, he started off with their innocence, slowly sucking it away. They had to be completely innocent, not one ounce of evil in them. Marko got off on things like that. He'd start taking it from them, slowly sucking the goodness away from them, every little fucking thing, all the while acting like he loved them, using his charm to distract what the monster was doing. Yeah, Paul was right. He needed to be locked in a room with over a dozen of hot chickies. It was no use then. Marko would most likely just kill them. No fucky fucky, just sucky, sucky.

''Horny, fucking, midget'' Paul would mutter.

David wasn't much interested in girls either. He had his pets, but unlike Marko, he changed them. He'd go for the innocent and beautiful girls, the sort that wouldn't dare to disobey him. They were his trophies, something he could manipulate and control. Dwayne liked girls, but it was rare he'd bother with them. He moved away when girls moved towards them. He went to them. If Dwayne didn't, he wasn't interested. No, Dwayne liked talking with girls, girls who wouldn't talk about...'girly things' If it was history you liked and you were a quiet person, Dwayne would most likely talk you throughout the whole hours of the night, and if you were lucky, you'd leave in one fine shape.

But Paul, well...

_''I'm just waiting one day for your dick to drop off'' Marko would say to Paul._

_To which Paul's reply would be. ''Man, my dick is seriously fucking killing me.''_

_''Don't expect sympathy off me. If you're going to fuck mad like rabbits...stick your dick in all those girls...serves you right.''_

_Paul would just stick his finger up and mutter something inaudibly._

It was rare, no, it pretty much never happened that a girl, a hot girl at that, wouldn't take an interest in Paul, but when it happened, Paul had the patience of a sin to get their attention until he got what he wanted. Still, he had no thought of killing miss uptighty, not at all. It was pretty much just wanting to see her naked body that all Paul could think about. He'd go from there then.

_

* * *

_''Okay, so some might not be even worth bothering with, but you can have them all. If there isn't any you want, don't chuck them, I'll give them to charity or something.''

Edgar nodded and grabbed a knife, cutting away the tape that surrounded the box. ''You sure you've been in here before?''

''Well, I skipped coming here last year.'' Boadicea held her white, silk, gloved hands together and slightly bounced on her feet. ''But the year before and the year before that I've been in here, giving comics. Surely you can remember, Edgar?''

''It must of passed'' Edgar muttered and began to take the comics out of the box.

''I remember you'' Alan said, and scanned her appearance with a blank, yet slight curious look. ''You were the one who gave us all those...'' he blinked. ''Martian comics or something.''

''Attack of the green men'' she laughed lightly. ''My lord, they were, are...you don't still have them, do you?''

Edgar looked up. ''Most likely not. If so, they're probably in the cellar, on some table, covered in damp and dust. I won't put anything on the second hand shelf if I don't think it'll sell.''

She nodded and peered at them closely. ''You boys have grown quite a lot. How old are you now?''

''Eleven'' Edgar muttered.

''You seem much older.'' she stated with a small smile.

''Hmmm.'' Edgar turned back to the box, clearly showing he wasn't interested in conversing with her.

''Are any of them any good?'' Boadicea asked.

''They're fine'' Alan said. ''Thanks.''

''Right.'' She stopped bouncing. ''If I come to Santa Carla next summer, I'll most likely bring some more comics around, if you're interested?''

''Sure'' Edgar said. ''Not often we get given comics. Thanks.''

''Right. Well, have fun with them.''

''She's seriously in the wrong place'' Edgar said to Alan, and watched her walk out of the store. ''Even I could see it.''

''Innocence'' Alan answered and also watched her leave. ''Not a good thing for being around the boardwalk.''

''Hmmmm''

* * *

Boadicea's teeth grazed across her lips as she looked around the boardwalk, a slight unsure expression coming upon her face. A brown curl flicked over her face and her red, bloody, lips pouted in annoyance when she tried to blow it away from her eyes. Her light blue cotton dress stuck to her slightly sticky body, and beads of sweat ran down the back of her neck. Her feet tapped the floor as she looked around, and her hands were clasped together. She ignored the few guys who tried to grab her attention as they passed, grinning a wolfish grin. She inwardly rolled her eyes, and the curl up of her lip could slightly be seen. Was there ever a time she could go out without being noticed? She didn't want to sound vain, but even she knew she was pretty, and she hated it. She wished she were ugly. Sure, even not so pretty girls got boyfriends, fell in love, but at least it wasn't so bad as to what she had to put up with all because of what she looked liked. Boys were never an object of interest with her, mainly because she was actually wary, untrusting, and frightened of them. She didn't trust them because she felt they only wanted one thing from her. She was frightened of them because she was scared that if she liked someone, her heart would become shattered when she found out the person she liked was just as asshole wanting to score with her. She shook her head. And some girls craved to have the perfect shape and be extremely beautiful. She wondered why. With her, beauty was within, but to most guys, well, she hated how she looked, she really did.

_Boadicea...Boadicea..._

Her face took on a confused look and, with a frown, she looked around. No one seemed to be really looking at her, only skimming her appearance as they passed and then moving on. Her eyes trailed up and down the boardwalk, the frown deepening slightly. She shook her head lightly, leaving it to be hearing things. Wiping the back of her hand across her damp forehead, she glanced down at her watch. The air was stifling, stuffy, and sticky, and she felt herself becoming hotter. Not even night time was cooling. She hadn't planed to go to the boardwalk at all, but then remembering the comics she had brought with her; it pretty much crossed off her plans on not going there. It was too jam packed for her liking, to wild and dangerous. She kept close to the store of Frog comics, making sure not to stand too close to the crowd, for fear she would be elbowed all over. Her nose crinkled in disgust as different smells hit her, and she pulled a face.

_Boadicea..._

Her head snapped up and worry came. Her eyes looked around again, and she froze completely when her eyes sought out a figure sitting on the railing across the boardwalk.

* * *

Ah, now she had spotted him. Paul brought the joint to his lips and stared at her. His eyes had taken in her appearance and he had grinned in amusement. Innocent was an understatement. It shone from her like some beacon, exactly like some bright, gold, light around her. The grin had widened when he took in the butterfly clips in her hair and the teddy bear bag she had. He was unsure if it was the same girl he had spoken to outside of Lou's Bar the previous night. It was her. He'd pretty much summed up she was a stuck up, little miss, uptighty, innocent, so and so, but deep within, she was just a little girl. Paul wasn't able to stop the small laugh escaping his lips when he saw the watch upon her wrist. It was just to amusing and surprising at what he was seeing. Never, never in his life, or undead one, had he seen someone like this girl. Sure, he'd seen girls hot like her, hotter, but how she was...Never. He'd met his fair share of stuck up bitches, but not quite like this girl. Paul, usually, could read girls. It was pretty easy with him after all the decades of being around them, but she was just unpredictable, and she surprised him every time. She was a posh tottie, he'd already figured that one out. The minute her mouth opened, he knew. Of course she was stuck up, but upon seeing the kiddie things she had, he doubted it was really her. He had shook his head and laughed again when his eyes looked back at the watch. Films or any of the sorts wasn't something he was to familiar with. The guys had no tv or any of the sorts. Occasionally he'd take a girl to the pictures to get what he wanted, but other than that, he didn't really have an interest in them. He knew what the watch was though. The head of Scooby Doo stared at him from across the boardwalk and Paul shook his head again, muttering a Jesus Christ.

Her body still seemed to be frozen as they stared at each other, and her eyes went to the ground. Fear... It swirled from her and went towards him. Paul frowned. She was suddenly afraid of him. Why, he was unsure. He had come into contact with her once; outside Lou's Bar and then walking with her down the street. The disgust, distaste, and the vibe of not giving him the time of day was seen, but there didn't seem to be fear, and if there was, it was nay untraceable.

She looked up, then, with a bite of the lip, and giving him one last look, she walked away. He of course followed. The monster side of him followed because it was her fear calling to him, Paul followed because...well, it was just him! People moved, making a long line down the boardwalk for him as he moved not six feet behind her. His eyes were actually looking at her bag. Two brown eyes stared at him, and a pink tongue could be seen sticking out the side of the teddy bears mouth. Paul blinked and shook his head. He noted the way her dress clung to her curves just right, and talk about having legs up to her armpits...

His pace suddenly slowed when they walked past the one stall, and his eyes watched the group of guys standing by it, noting her with interest. They began following her then, eyeing her as they did so. Everyone was oblivious to it, she was oblivious to it, but Paul wasn't oblivious to their intentions. If he could have, he would have snapped their necks there and then. The only shred of respect he had for women was what he was against. Against what these bastards had planned. Oh, didn't Paul just want to tear their fucking heads off. The hunger rose again, and a small trace of anger appeared.

He moved at a fast pace then, and he walked past the guys, giving them a blank look, although his fingers yearned to become claws. He felt her body jump in shock and then recoil when he put an arm around her.

''Hey, babe''

Paul shook his head when, with disgust on her face, she went to open her mouth. It snapped shut and a wide grin came onto his face.

''I said meet me, where were you?'' The grin was still plastered across his lips.

She never got an answer as she was crushed close to his chest and his lips began to kiss her neck.

''Play along like a good girl'' Paul muttered.

Her body was still as rigid as stone, but the disgust dropped from her face. His lips still moved along her neck and he flashed a grin and then a wink to the guys when they locked gazes. Yeah, fucking walk you bastards Paul thought. Her heart fluttered in her chest and he tried not to laugh as he heard her thoughts. It never surprised him, not in the slightest. _Vile...disgusting beast..._

Ah, if only she knew why, why he was doing it. There were only two reasons why he was stopping it from happening. He was against rape, and she was his little challenge. They were still staring and Paul sent them a look then. If they wanted their heads they really should have moved. Granted, he couldn't have done squat diddly fuck upon the boardwalk, but he'd find them, somewhere, sometime, and he'd kill them. It was going to happen anyway. They never stopped at one girl, they moved on to others. Paul eyes scanned around, noting not one person was looking. Bingo he thought and his grin turned dangerous, malicious. They took a step back when his eyes swirled a fiery orange, fear coming onto their faces. There was no doubt about it now, they had to be killed, and he'd have to keep a close eyes on them that night. As if anyone would believe them, but still he was going to fucking kill them, and he was going to get Marko to do it with him. The miget would have fun with those type of guys.

They scarpered away then and Paul, blinking away the monster, stepped away from her. The trace of anger increased slightly when she slapped him hard across the face.

''Who do you think you are?''

He grabbed her wrist then. ''Me? I just saved your fucking ass, sweetheart.'' There was no grin upon his lips. ''Next time I won't bother'' His hand grabbed her other wrist when she went to slap him again. ''Don't do that again, as the next time I might not be so forgiving nor will I be able to control my temper.''

Fear flashed in her eyes then, and burying it away, her eyes burned with dislike.

Crinkling her lip in disgust, she yanked her wrist from his grip. He span her around. ''See those guys over there. Them, they were following you. Want me to paint a picture at what they were planning to do''

''Urgh! How would you know what they were planning to do?''

''How?'' Paul said. ''It's easy to see''

She stopped and embarrassment and guilt came onto her face. ''Were they...I'm...I didn't mean to hit you, I-

''I didn't tell you much, so therefore I deserved that one'' Paul said.

His, once happy mood, had vanished slightly. He was going to slowly kill those bastards now.

''Right.'' The distaste came back upon her face. ''Th...'' She sighed. ''Thanks again''

''Now who's being rude? You're going to leave after I just saved you?'' The grin came back on his lips. ''I think I deserve... the hero deserves to take you out for food.''

''Then I guess I'm one mean person'' she answered with that same expression. ''Perhaps one day we'll stop bumping into each other. One can wish'' she muttered quietly.

''Ungrateful bitch'' Paul thought when he took in her words.

''Alright, fine. I won't be the hero to save you again when you need..saving...''

Paul walked away then, and he grinned when he managed to catch the guilty look flash in her eyes.

''I'm sorry''

He stopped, and turned.

Taking in a deep breath, as if she was cursing herself for some reason, she moved towards him. ''Thank you, really thanks. Ummm...food sounds good.'' A forced smile came upon her face.

Okay, so she really didn't want to go anywhere with him, nor be around him. Paul could hear her thoughts loud and clear, but still, he was taking her out, so it wasn't all that bad.

* * *

So, how did their second meeting come across? Yes, the Frogs were in this chapter. From the start I planned them to be, and I made them as twins in this. They will be mentioned some more, but I'm not sure how long they will be throughout the fic, nor what will actually be going on with them. Well, I did have an idea from the start, but I'm not to sure yet.


	6. Vile, disgusting, beast

This chapter is really long, and it's not like me to do that, as I know rambling can make readers lose interest. I just hope you don't, and that you enjoy this.

* * *

Paul took it all back.

It was all bad. She didn't walk beside him as they walked down the boardwalk. She trailed behind him instead, as if she didn't want to be seen with him, as if he were some infective plague that threatened to contaminate her any moment. The same thoughts were running through her head, and Paul quietly sighed.

Now she wished she had just let him walk away. Now she wished she never did that favour for her friend. Right at that moment, a part of him did want to hear her fucking scream and beg, see that stuck up look disappear off her face. It made her look ugly, and it was just beyond annoying, now, to Paul. It was the hunger and still the trace of anger he felt that made him not his usual happy self. Paul didn't seem to have the patience like he did any other time. Although he planned to get her, get her attention, that night just didn't seem to be going a good one. Paul wasn't going to give up, he never did. He was a bit of a spoilt brat when it came to something he wanted. He wasn't as bad as David, but when he wanted something he fucking got it. He couldn't see it like his brothers did though.

_''Why have you got to have everybody loving you'' David would say. ''Who cares about them. They're good for one thing, Paul, and one thing only.''_

Paul didn't really know why either. He just had to be liked.

_''And this girl.'' Marko had said. ''I can't see what's so special about her. Alright, so she's hot, really hot, but there's plenty of ass like that on the boardwalk, ass that would surely let you have some. The only thing I'd want to do with her is taste her blood.'' He had grinned and shook his head. ''You're a sad bastard, Paul, really you are.''_

Maybe Marko was right, he was right on most occasions, but it was just how Paul rolled. He didn't care for them, but he wanted people to like him. And he didn't care for this girl either; he just didn't like being ignored or not being noticed. It crushed his massive ego, gave it a good, hard, slap. Paul failed to understand why she was immune to his charms. It was him! Within five minutes of talking, girls were usually finding it hard to stand_, _so why was this girl not swooning?

He slowed his pace and a wild, loopy, grin came onto his face when he began to walk beside her. His blonde, frizzy, hair blew slightly, and he watched her take a small step away from him when he got closer to her. His blue eyes filled with amusement at her discomfort, and he watched her twist her finger around the bead of her bright, orange, necklace. Red painted itself onto her cheeks and she turned her head slightly before looking straight back in front of her when they locked gazes. That grin was still smeared across his lips and it increased when he felt her discomfort rise at how close they were. His shoulder deliberately brushed against hers, and she moved slightly away from him, that finger twisting more around the necklace, causing one bead to crack in to two. Oh, how Paul loved her reactions. It was seen a mile off that she was virgin, even to humans. You didn't have to smell her blood to know. You could see it from the way she acted around him, to the way it pretty damn shone from her. It was easy to see that she'd never had a boyfriend in her life either, nor even been touched by a man. Paul was all up for doing those things. He licked his lips lightly at picturing her naked flesh crushed to his, and that milky skin of her neck... No, her titties were pretty much begging for a suck and bite.

''Where do you want to eat, babe?'' Paul raised a brow when she said nothing. His hand suddenly grabbed her wrist tight, and he pulled her out of the way when a group of boys raced down the boardwalk on skate boards. It tightened when more zoomed past, and she winced when it began to bruise her sensitive flesh.

''Well, where do you want to go?'' The hand was removed and she rubbed her sore flesh tenderly.

Paul noticed, but no apology came. His gaze locked onto hers, they seemed to mock her somehow, and they were laughing at her. That grin widened, the mocking came again, and she found herself frowning. The stuck up look disappeared and came a confused one came.

Although her thoughts were boring and, now, just beyond irritating, they amused him. Paul did expect to have her swooning by now, did expect that she would give him the time of day, but it was still the same things from her. He had pretty much digged the basic things from her. She was hot, stuck up, innocent, but completely boring. Humour seemed to be something that she didn't know of, fun was something that seemed to be foreign to her, and he doubted she'd know what those two were if they slapped her good and hard in the face. His eyes went to her watch and he chuckled lightly. She looked down then and, looking back at him, frowned. He grinned and then looked behind her at the big, fuck off, teddy bear bag.

''Have you got a problem with something, Paul?''

He looked back at her to find she was raising a brow, and her hands were on her hips.

He laughed loudly, and then shook his head. ''Nope, wouldn't have pegged you for...Scooby doo.''

''Hmmm, you remind me of Shaggy''

Paul blinked and frowned at her words. ''How so?''

''The whole...'' She waved a hand. ''Superhero...save the day...really a scared kitty...oh, and he looks like some baked-''

Paul closed the space between them. ''I see insults are something you're not well with.'' He grinned. ''If I was a cartoon character I'd definitely be smoking up joints with him, and munching on those Scooby snacks, they're probably laced with dope.

She blinked and then laughed. ''He's definitely a pot head.''

He grinned. ''That's why I'd definitely be smoking with him.''

Her laughing ceased and she turned away. ''I'm going to go.''

He grabbed her shoulder tightly. ''You promised-''

''I never promised you anything of the sorts.'' Her nose turned up ''Kindly get your hands off me.

You manhandle me one more time, I'll scream.''

It was removed and he blocked her path. ''What's shoved up your backside? You got a metal pole up there or something?''

A blush appeared on her cheeks, and embarrassment could be seen. He moved when she tried to get around him. His face showed she wasn't leaving until he got an answer. Did she have some sort of split fucking personality disorder? Paul didn't know, didn't know why she had suddenly gone all, see you later, asshole! She attempted to move again, and Paul blocked her. The flush faded from her face, embarrassment disappeared, and a haughty look came. Her hands came back to her hips, her eyes showed a small trace of annoyance and aggravation. Paul didn't back down, instead he got closer towards her and grinned. She moved back and began to walk the other way. He came to a stand in front of her, and shook his head, those eyes laughing again.

She looked at the ground and sighed in frustration. ''Alright, fine, I was trying to be nice about it.'' She looked back at him. ''You're a vile, disgusting, beast, and you are the last man I would converse with or be around. I don't want to speak to you. Can't you take the message and kindly leave me be. I have no interest with you, Paul, and I wish for nothing more than to be left alone by you.''

He studied the ground for a moment. There was no grin upon his face when he looked up at her. ''Now can I see why you're a virgin. You are one uptight, prissy, bitch''

Shock came onto her face and Paul didn't manage to stop the hand connecting with his cheek. This time he didn't retaliate.

''Who are you to judge me...and quite honestly you know nothing about me, about my life, my sex life or anything of the sorts. I am most right about you''

He got up in her face. ''It's seen a mile off. At first I thought it was you swatting away all the guys.'' Paul laughed. ''Your stuck up attitude makes them run a fucking mile, and as for judging. You don't know me either, so who are you to say what I am. It's not personally me is it?'' He circled around her like some starving shark, and he detected the fear within her. ''No, it's not me.'' He stopped behind her and leant in close towards her. Goose pimples appeared on her skin as his breath blew across the flesh of her neck. ''Are you afraid of me? Is it all guys you're nervous around?''

Shaking slightly, she turned to face him, and Paul blinked when he saw her eyes flash in rage. ''No! Just you, you pathetic excuse of a human. I know what you're after and you're not getting anything from me, ever! Just men like you, Paul, men like you that I hate! Go back to your asshole friends.''

Paul burst out laughing and then grabbed her arm tight, pulling her towards him. The laughing ceased along with the surprise at her bluntness. ''Babe, I'm a nice guy, really I am, and I'm always the one laughing. It's rare to piss me off, which you're making it exceptionally easy tonight... Be careful what you say about my friends, you might not like my reaction if you do it again.''

She pushed him away. ''God, dangerous too by the sounds of it. Excuse me.''

He didn't block her path this time. Instead he walked beside her, that grin coming back onto his face when he felt her anger and frustration. He moved close to her, acting like nothing had just gone on between them, acting like he hadn't just practically threatened her seconds ago.

''I apologise for angering you and hurting you'' Paul said, not really sorry at all. ''You're right, I don't know you, but you don't know me. Can't we be friends?''

He grinned widely when she looked up at him. ''Look, I am grateful that you have now helped me twice, but I didn't come here to make friends or any of the sorts. I was just being nice to you, Paul, and I mean it when I say I have no interest in you. Can you not respect my one wish and leave me alone.''

They found themselves stopping by the railing. Paul turned to look at her. ''No. I'll make a deal. You just hang with me tonight and I promise I'll leave you alone.''

She turned to face the ocean. She had to say it, he was like a scurrying ant that wouldn't piss off, and she knew that was most likely the best she was going to get from him. It was easy to see he wasn't one who respected anybody's wishes, and he seemed the sort that always got what he wanted. Among not liking him because she didn't trust him, because she thought he was just after something, he scared her and behind that happy look he wore, Boadicea saw something that she didn't like. He was dangerous, that was easy to see, and although he was nice, acted a gentleman, complimented her, it meant nothing whatsoever. Looks can be deceiving and she had heard those words many times. They were indeed true. She didn't trust Paul as far as she could throw him. Now there were good reasons she didn't like going to the boardwalk; not bumping into someone she didn't want to see. Paul was right, she didn't know him, and it was wrong of her to judge him so quick, but she was well aware of what Santa Carla was like. Being too trusting in Santa Carla was something that would indeed get you killed. Sure, he knew her dealer well, but that still didn't mean anything to her, still didn't make her trust him. He was a troublemaker. The night she delivered the drugs to him at Lou's bar showed that, and he was dangerous. When she spoke of his friends something flickered in his one laughing eyes. She couldn't help it, she didn't like him one bit. He disgusted her and she wished for more than nothing but to be left alone by him. Not everyone got what they wanted she could see.

''I'm not hungry'' she finally said, keeping her eyes on the ocean. A shiver ran through her and she rubbed her arms. Paul noted and slipped off his blazer. She shook her head when he handed it her. Rolling his eyes, he draped it over her shoulders.

''Alright, not hungry. You thirsty?''

''I'm good thank you'' she answered.

''Alright, so we'll stand here'' Paul grinned and produced a joint from his jeans pocket. She moved away slightly when he lit it up. Her hand blew away the smoke when it went towards her. Paul laughed when she coughed and then began to blow smoke rings.

''So how do you know Christine?'' Paul asked after several minutes of silence. He could have easily gotten all the information from her mind, but he would have preferred to have heard it from her and to the fact it kept conversation going. Not that he didn't ever get stuck on what to say, but being the way she was, she wouldn't have wanted to have heard half of what would come out of his mouth, and so far, the thought of walking away again hadn't crossed her mind, and Paul wanted it to stay like that. The anger was already disappearing, and he didn't plan to be pissed again.

Her hand stopped blowing the smoke away. ''I...'' she moved away when he blew more smoke out. ''I used to live here''

That stopped him. He turned to face her then and then eyed her in confusion. Paul hadn't seen her in Santa Carla, and he had been there for over twenty years. ''When did you move away?''

''Well, I moved here when I was one to live with my grandparents and then left when I was ten'' She said.

''Oh. How old are you?'' Paul was trying to figure out why he hadn't seen her. Granted she would have probably been really young then, but a vampire always remembered a certain someone if they came across them again. Once you got a hold of a scent, it stuck right at the back of your mind.

''Has anyone told you it's rude to ask how old somebody is?'' She quirked an eyebrow slightly.

''I'm twenty two'' Paul said and then stared at her

She sighed and brushed specks of ash off her dress. ''I'm twenty.''

Ah, that's why he hadn't seen her. She had most likely left when he came to Santa Carla. Of course, if she had still been around, he could have past her when he was human, but it wasn't until a year after he had been in Santa Carla was he pulled into David's family, plus the fact she would have been a baby then, and there was no way he would have remembered. She had most likely long been gone by then. There wasn't anything he really remembered from his human life, so it wasn't to the fact because of that. Paul couldn't even remember what he had done a week ago. He wondered what she looked like young. Curiosity getting the better of him, he dove into her mind, ignoring the unsettling feeling coming onto her face. Her hand came to her head and she rubbed her scalp, a little shake of the head leaving her when he went further into her memories. A grin lit up on his face, and he blinked in surprise. She hadn't been a pretty kid, not at all. In fact she was rather ugly looking, but she had bloomed into something beautiful. Paul pulled out and shook his head. Funny that was. It could have been the other way around so he wasn't complaining.

''So, why did you leave and why did you move here to begin with?''

''My mother was a lawyer, still is, and my father owned a long chain of malls in London. They didn't have time for me, they were busy people, and I wasn't getting on good with my nanny, so my grandparents took me in'' She said this all in a blur, Paul had to repeat the words to take it all in.

''Oh, you're a rich girl then?''

''Not at all'' She answered. ''I don't take money from my parents, and my dad does not give it to me. He started off with nothing and made something, and his views are the same with me''

''Sounds like a tight bastard to me''

She scowled slightly. ''Not at all. I've seen people who shower their children with everything they want. They grow up to be selfish, spoilt, people.''

She turned away from him. ''I preferred living with my grandparents, preferred living in a small two bedroom cottage. They weren't rich people, in fact they had very little money, but it was home, and it felt like a proper family. I preferred living with them than I did back at home. The house was big, but it was empty, and I wasn't allowed to wander around anywhere. I was only allowed in five rooms. The kitchen, the nursery, sometimes the library, my room of course, and into my nanny's''

''How could you remember if you moved here when you were one?''

She frowned in confusion and then blinked. ''Oh, well I stayed with my grandparents until I was ten, so I can remember that, and I visited back home every summer. They told me what it was like when I was a baby''

''Why weren't you allowed to wander around?'' Paul grew interested. She was speaking to him without a stuck up look, and she didn't seem to mind talking. He was taking anything he could get.

''They collected art, antiques, expensive things, and when they were there, they had parties and stuff. I usually went away with my nanny for the weekend.''

''Your parents didn't sound very good ones''

''They were, it was just time'' she smiled slightly. ''Anyway, what about you, Paul?''

He noted she seemed to want to take the attention off of herself. ''Where are you from?'' she asked, pretending to be interested. Paul could tell she wasn't interested in the slightest, but just wanted to pass the time, and put the attention on someone else.

''Originally San Francisco. Came here and met the guys. They're my family now.''

''No parents?'' she asked with slight curiosity.

''Nope, we're free as birds.''

''Hmmm'' she breathed in deeply and leant slightly over the railing.

''So, how did you meet Christine?'' Paul asked.

''She lived by my grandparents.'' she glanced at him. ''She babysat me sometimes.''

''Ah'' he took a long drag on the joint and inhaled deeply. ''Thought it would be something like that. She's a lot older than you.''

''Old enough to be my mother.'' She nodded. ''When I moved away we kept in contact, and when I turned twelve, I started visiting her every summer, have done since then.''

''All but last year''

She nodded. ''I skipped last year.''

She turned away. ''It's getting late, I really have to go now.''

''Wanna ride?''

She laughed in disbelief. ''I'm quite alright thank you. Good night, Paul.''

''Wait. I'm not going to let you walk back by yourself.''

She put a hand up. ''Really, I am fine.''

''Sorry, babe, you're not getting rid of me that fast. Just let me walk you home or something.''

She sighed in defeat. ''Alright.''

* * *

They watched from the shadows like some monsters from a never ending nightmare. They were monsters. They were the creatures that lived and moved around in the shadows, the creatures that walked around, waiting, stalking, living off the fear and consuming all the shreds of goodness they came across. They were the things that made children fear the dark, the sort that made children have nightlights and ask their Mommy's and Daddies to tuck them in and check under the bed and in the closet for any signs of evil hiding. Santa Carla was their home, and they owned it when night fell upon the land. The evil came out to play then, and angelic faces, promises of fun, and whispers of names seductively drew the people towards them. For no one suspected these boys to be bloodthirsty monsters. They saw them as a gang, a gang that lived off partying. For no one ever saw the true monsters lurking within, not until it was too late for their selected victims to do anything.

Once human looking eyes glowed amber and human faces had long disappeared. The masks had been removed, and the true monsters came to the surface. Hands had turned to claws, blunt teeth were no long just blunt. Sharp fangs had appeared and the once human act they could have ever used was long gone. There was no trace showing that they were human, no trace showing that they were nothing more than two wild boys wanting to have fun. Not one person would suspect these boys to be vicious, unremorseful, monsters.

The scent of pot and whiskey twirled towards them, along with the sounds of hollering, shouting, and laughing. A hand pulled him back when he made a move, and Marko shook his head when they locked gazes. Paul sighed and looked back towards the group of people sitting around the fire. They were all having a good time. It was too bad it was going to end pretty soon. Paul felt like partying now. Unlike them, his party would consist of pain, screams, blood, flesh, and fear. Anticipation ran through him and he began to bounce on his feet like an excited child. Marko pulled him back again. It was pretty hard to control Paul when he got like this. He wasn't exactly new to being a vampire, but there were still some work with him, mainly when it came to feeding. With Paul, that was all still new. The excitement that never ended when it came to killing, the childish fun at waiting. It was like that for all of them when they were reborn, it got better down the line, but it never went. With Paul, it was all still slightly new.

_Why are we waiting? Let's just fly down on them._

_Because further up ahead there are two people. Wait, let's have some fun first_.

Paul sighed in annoyance and began to watch the partiers. He was going to enjoy killing these bastards more than he did any other time. He hadn't selected them because he was hungry. No, these were the guys he had come across on the boardwalk, pieces of scum who, in Paul's eyes, no one would miss in the world. Of course they were pissed that he had stopped them from following out with their plans on Boadicea, but digging into their minds, he'd got more than what he wanted to hear. The bastard weren't going to die by him because of what they were going to do to Boadicea. They were going to die because they never stopped at one girl. Of course Paul didn't give a shit about humans, but when it came to females, whatever age they may be, that was when there was some respect shown. To the fact that these rapists didn't have a way of picking their victims; it didn't matter if it were females, males, eight year olds, or thirty year olds; Paul wasn't seeing them as food. No, this was more personal in his eyes. Faces upon faces of the people they had hurt came to Paul's mind, and when he saw the children, the monster roared in anger. Of course he couldn't say much as he had murdered thousands upon thousands, but never what these guys had done. He blinked when Marko nudged him and he shrugged carelessly when they locked gazes. Of course Marko would have heard; Paul didn't exactly think quietly, plus to the fact he pretty much told Marko anything and always let him in. Marko, though, tended to keep away from his brothers thoughts, only because it was filled up with crap like music, naked hot chickies, and other stuff the rocker liked.

There were girls sitting around the fire, and he knew what these bastards had planned for them. Anger came to the surface and a snarl made him stop moving. Marko shot him a look and Paul backed down with an even more annoyed face. He was hungry but he wanted to kill these bastards more to the fact because of what they were. His thoughts vanished when the one guy stood up, dragging a very drunk girl up with him. She swayed and his hand grabbed her arm when she nearly fell into him. No one seemed to pay attention to the two, all but the two vampires lurking in the shadows.

_Those people are gone Paul announced._

_And these two are coming our way Marko replied._

Paul moved back more into the dark, and his shoulder rested up against the beam of the pier. The girl's laughter hit his ears and he winced slightly. She tripped a couple of times and Paul didn't laugh like he usually would of. No, it was exactly what the guy wanted. Now he had shoved enough drink down her throat to the point of her passing out, he pretty much had his plans sorted. She was thick headed and Paul couldn't have agreed more with him, but so was the guy for thinking he'd get away with it. Marko watched in silence next to him, noting the smirk come onto the guys face. He looked towards them and Paul resisted the urge to shout: Yooo hoooo, start running you piece of shit...

That would have ruined all the fun, plus he would have gotten a good kick up the backside by Marko.

''Where...are'' the girl tripped again and the guy grabbed her arm tight. ''We going?''

She stopped and looked towards the pier. She stared straight at Paul and then frowned when her eyes moved off him. ''I'm not going over there. It's dark.''

The guy stopped too. ''You scared?''

''Yes'' She moved back a step when he stared at her with an expression she hadn't seen before.

Paul blinked and felt anger boil over when he suddenly grabbed her and began to drag her towards them. His sweaty hand came over her mouth and she cried out. Her feet dragged along the sand, and her cries became muffled when the hand pressed down tighter. Marko shook his head at Paul, and a devilish grin came onto his face. Her fear sky rocketed out of control when they got closer towards the darkness, and a choked gasp left her when an arm snaked its way around her throat. With wide eyes she began to claw at his hand, scratching away his flesh. Her eyes watered and she began to struggle when they were not ten feet away from the two. Her face began to get red and flustered, and small strangled gasps left her. No one around the fire had even noticed the two. They were all still drinking and talking amongst each other. Paul gave them all a disgusted look. Stupid fucking humans he thought and then growled quietly when he saw the one guy glance at the two. He turned back to face the fire when the girl gave him a pleading look. Paul was going to devour the bastards slowly and bring them the most pain he could deliver. Droplets of tears ran down her cheeks and she cried out loud when he hit her hard in the face, causing her lip to split open and bleed. It dribbled down her chin and Paul felt the hunger rise.

''Stop struggling you stupid bitch...You'll only piss me off'

Her hands gripped the beam when they came to the pier and he yanked her hair hard, causing her to whimper in pain. A nail snapped off, her hands loosened, and she was pulled into the darkness. Paul and Marko moved right to the side and waited.

She was violently thrown to the ground, and another cry of pain left her lips when he kicked her hard in the leg as she made a move to stand.

''Please don't'' she cried and lifted her hands to shield herself.

''If you do what I want, I might let you go'' The guy looked down at her. ''All about being lucky.''

She scrambled back until her back was leant up against one of the rotting beams. More tears fell, her fear sang in Paul's ears like a drum, and she began to shake in fright. All signs of her being drunk had long disappeared. Her brown eyes were wild with fear, and weeps began to leave her. Paul began to move from side to side. He found himself looking down at the girl, and behind all the makeup she wore, she was much younger than what she looked; much younger, too young to be drinking and to young to be out so late.

''Suck it bitch''

Paul's eyes left her and Marko pulled him back when he saw what was about to happen.

_Stop it!_

_What the fuck. I ain't watching this, Marko. She's a fucking kid._

_Calm down, Paul. Just wait, I won't let it get to that._

''No'' her voice shook and tears poured down her face like an endless river. She stood up and then made a move to run. His hand caught her hair and he slammed her into the beam, getting a shocked, winded, gasp out of her. She tried to move again and she only ended up slamming into his chest. The tears stopped, along with the cries. Her teeth sunk into his arm when he began to rip the buttons off her dress. A chunk was ripped and, swearing out, she was punched hard in the face. A weep left her then and she fell down.

He looked down at her. ''Now you've just pissed me off''

''And that's all you've done with me''

The guy froze and then straightened up. ''Who's there?''

Paul stepped out from behind the beam then, and striking a match across the box, lit up his joint. The guy squinted through the darkness and then his eyes widened upon seeing his face. Before he could let out a scream Marko was upon him. Grabbing him by his scruffy brown hair he drove his head into the beam, hearing it crack like an egg. He felt the warmth run down his fingers and, with a grin, he smashed his head against the beam again, grinning even wider at feeling more warm blood pour down his cold skin. Paul moved towards the frightened girl then. She scrambled backwards when she heard his footsteps move towards her, and her hands came over her face. She cried out when the guy was dropped by her feet, and she moved further back when he gurgled something

.

''No, don't, please.''

Paul laughed and moved further towards her. Oh, didn't her fear want to make him tear her to complete fucking pieces. Paul never did. She was to young, not on the menu. He crouched in front of her and forcefully removed her hands from her face. Swiftly his hand came over her mouth when she went to scream.

He leant close towards her, and locked eyes with her panicked and terrified ones. ''Go home, go back to your family. You never saw anything tonight.''

A dazed look took over her as he said this, and she blinked. The fear melted, the muffled cries stopped, and the tears vanished. She nodded her head and took Paul's outstretched hand.

''Help me''

He pulled her up from the sand and her feet moved back then. The tears began to start again when she squinted down at the guy, but the dazed look was still there. Her trembling fingers did the buttons up on her dress, and Paul choked on the smoke he inhaled when she kicked the guy hard in the face. She ran then and Paul laughed as he watched her go.

''What did you expect? You think she'd help you.'' He crouched down and, with a grin, hit the guy hard across the face. ''We haven't done that much damage, so don't die on me yet.''

''Let me go''

Paul laughed. ''Let you go. Let you go! Well, my brother's hungry and...'' he leant forwards. ''When he don't eat, he gets pissed. Although I doubt you'd satisfy his hunger. Maybe we should snack on your friends instead.'' He stood up. ''I'm not going to kill you, I wouldn't do a good enough job. My brother, however, will.''

''No! I'll do anything, anything.''

Paul looked down at him. ''Anything...Stop begging would be a good one.'' He turned. ''It seems your friends have yet to realise you need help'' He looked back down at him with a wide grin.

''Time to join the party I think.''

''Have them, take them instead.'' The guys hand came to his head, his tanned hands instantly becoming coated in thick crimson.

The grin slipped off Paul's face. ''Actually my brother isn't going to kill you, not now. Your friends are going to do it,. After all, they're not your friends, so it shouldn't be so hard.''

'''Help me'' he began shouting. ''Help me!''

''Yo, Ritchie, what you doing, man?''

''Help me. They're...''

Marko's hands came to his head, and the sound of bones crunching was heard when he twisted it violently around. The wet sand instantly became painted with blood and Paul sighed.

''So much for his friends killing him'' he muttered and watched the blood move towards his boots.

''They wouldn't have done it'' Marko said and wiped his bloody hands into his jacket.

''I bet you I could have made them do it'' Paul answered.

Both stopped talking when footsteps made their way towards their ears. They turned then, and eyes landed on the other one who Paul had come across on the boardwalk. His feet shuffled along the sand as he moved towards them, and beer dribbled down his chin as he brought the bottle to his lips. He began singing quietly and his arms swayed back and forth. Sand sprayed everywhere as he began to kick it, and his singing became louder. The bottle was thrown over his shoulder and Paul gave a disgusted look when he began to take a piss. The beast slowly crept to the surface and blue eyes turned back amber, along with faces becoming back hideous. Doing up his zipper, the guy began to walk closer towards them. Paul licked his lips hungrily and found himself listening to the human's beating heart. His scent however was not appealing in the slightest. He smelt like some dead bum, and Paul was pretty sure the guy had been sleeping in his own faeces. Still, his neck looked pretty clean and blood was blood when Paul was hungry. He wasn't being picky that night as, although he was starving, eating these bastard was the last thing on his mind. The guy stopped two feet away from them and he blinked and peered into the dark

''Ritch...ie...'' He slurred the words. ''Where you at? You having that bitch yet?''

A black gloved hand shot out, grabbing the guy by the shirt. He was yanked into the shadows, and all could be heard was his screams as flesh was violently torn from him.

Everybody heard then and all stood up from the fire. The girls hid behind the guys who pushed them away in irritation.

''Ritchie, Samuel.'' The one guy scratched his head and looked at the other. ''Where'd they go?''

The girls screamed out when a head went flying towards them, landing in the sand right by their bare feet. The head of the guys best friend stared at them, his face still making a scream. They moved out of the shadows then, faces caked in blood, curls dripping with it, and teeth and mouths, thick with it. Eyes became wide, screams started, and all began to flee.

''Where you going!'' Paul shouted and then tackled one girl to the floor. She thrashed underneath him and he laughed wildly. ''The fun's just starting. Its party time and you're joining in. I'm your entertainer for this evening. Say hello to the one and only…Paul!''

She screamed louder as he tore into her neck, getting those dark pleasures from her fear and screams.


	7. Surprise

Okay, I wasn't even planning to bother with this story for sometime, but when something comes, it must be written. It's rubbish.

* * *

It was the shrill voice screaming down the end of the line that made her pull the phone away from her ear.

Eyes squeezed shut when it became louder and, rubbing her temples, the phone was brought back to her ear. Her eyes snapped open and they went straight to the alarm clock. A disbelieving look came upon her face when she read it and, licking her dry lips, the bedside lamp was switched on. Light instantly pooled into the room and shapes moved and danced across the wall from the branches that were moving back and forth from outside of the window. Although she was pretty much finding it near impossible to keep her eyes open, she didn't hang up on the person. Instead, the bed spread was pushed back, and Boadicea made her way towards the slightly opened window. Her name was repeatedly shouted seconds later, and a wince crossed her face. She did a calculation in her head and hoped the person didn't deliberately ring her, knowing full well what the time was. There was no point in lying, because they did fully well know. Great she thought.

All she wanted to do was throw the phone out of the window and go back to sleep. She didn't do any of these things, as it was quite a surprise at who was on the end of the line. For two weeks she had been in Santa Carla, and for those weeks, not one person had rung her from home. She hadn't been annoyed, as it was something she had grown used to. Now, now though, she was wondering why all of a sudden she had a call, and it was more surprising at whom it was from. If her mother had of been drunk, then there would have been no questions forming in her head, but that rarely happened, as she never had time to drink as she was constantly working. A workaholic was the closest word she could describe her mother as. In fact there were no other words apart from just that. Judging by the sounds she picked up, her mother was indeed still at the office. Time was minimal with her and when she did have it, none was spent on her daughter, so why the call now she wondered?

''Hello.'' Her voice was rough, quiet, completely drained. ''You there?''

The shouting got louder and her eyes closed in annoyance. She could faintly hear chatter and the sound of footsteps moving back and forth in the background, and the voice seemed to echo somehow. It sounded slightly chaotic, everybody rushing like madless, headless, chickens. The shouting became quiet all of a sudden, and static took over. Only mumbling came through, and she frowned. ''Rubbish office phones'' she muttered, judging by the trouble.

''Hello?'' No anwer came. Blinking, she placed the phone on the ledge of the window, and looked up and down the empty, clouded with fog, street. The area was pretty much as silent as the grave, which again, surprised her as usually people were still walking out early hours of the morning. The guy who always walked his dog at four in the morning was not seen, nor the trio of girls who walked down the street at that time of the morning, in fact every morning at that exact time, was not seen either. They usually passed the house, their loud giggles and chatter tending to wake her normally up. For it was not them this time. In fact, no one was around. A small frown found its way onto her face when she continued to look up and down the street. Not that she liked loads of noise, but she found it somewhat strange that there was not one sound heard. Well, all but a car in the distance and the next door light going on and off. That was unusual for Santa Carla.

Her eyes did a skim through of the garden as she waited for her mother to find a better phone. The multi coloured garden lights were covered in little black dots that moved from one light to another. The plants around the pond rustled slightly, and the water splashed every so often, leaving little bubbles. All except that, everything was dead quiet. It wasn't until her eyes slowly moved to the bottom of the garden did she jump in shock. A small cry left her lips when her head smacked hard on the top of the window.

''Ouch.'' Hand coming to her, now, stinging scalp, she moved back into the room. The phone was picked up, and gripping it tight, she brought it to her ear. Her eyes went back to the garden and she moved towards the door then. The phone was thrown to the bed as she passed it, and her feet lightly pounded against the carpet as she moved towards the bedroom door. A wince formed across her face when her head began to throb in pain. Eyes went towards Christine's room when she stepped into the landing and, biting her lip, she quietly pulled her door to. The steps creaked when she walked down the blackened stairs, and a face was made when they became louder with every move she took. It wasn't her eyes playing tricks on her. It wasn't a shadow casting from something in the garden. No, this shadow was the shadow of a person. She was positive there was indeed someone lurking around in the garden. Though she wasn't that all surprised, as it was Santa Carla. There were weird people all around, but she had no wish too go back to sleep knowing there was someone around outside the house. Her heart beat picked up when her eyes landed on two bright yellow orbs coming from within the darkened kitchen. A sound came then and she smiled feeling stupid at herself. The cat- Fat tom slinked his way out of the room then, tailed raised high. He moved around her legs, brushing his soft fur against her bare skin. Picking him up, she grabbed the back door keys from the kitchen drawer. The cat began purring in her arms and she rubbed her nose against his head. Fright was forming, but she felt some comfort at having the cat with her, a cat that was happy going to sleep, a cat that could do nothing but purr quietly. Still, there was something with her, whether it was an animal. She knew there was no point in waking Christine, plus she had no wish to do that. She knew she had been up most of the night cleaning, and she wanted her to sleep without any interruptions. She hoped it stayed like that. A face was made again when the lock unclicked and, grabbing the torch from the kitchen table, she opened the door. There was nothing but silence when she stepped outside. It was nothing but a greet of that. Clicking on the torch, she shined it around.

''Hello.'' She moved from out of the house then and her eyes scanned the trees when she flashed the light towards it. ''Is someone there?''

No answer came. Crickets chirped from within the grass, rustles came from around the pond, and the shadow had long disappeared. Boadicea moved across the patio then, and she shined the light all around the garden again. Fat tom continued his purring and she cuddled him closer towards her. Her eyes squinted through the trees that were half concealed by thick shadows, and something moved. Heart beginning to pick up it's pace, she moved towards it. The torch wobbled slightly in her trembling hand, and a laugh suddenly slipped past her lips when she saw what it was.

''A hedgehog, fat Tom'' she shook her head. ''I was probably seeing things.''

The response of the cat was suddenly hair raised and deep growls emanating from his chest. The feel of his rumbling growls moved through her and she felt his hair poof out more. Her eyes went around then, and a sense of danger came to her. It became thick in the air and it dawned on her then. She was not alone and she was being watched.

''I…is someone there?'' Her feet moved back when a twig snapped. Fear prickled all over her skin and a deep shiver ran through her. Fat Tom continued his vicious growling and she felt his claws extract. They dug slightly into her skin and a flash of pain crossed her face. The crickets had stopped their chirping, there were no longer the sounds of rustling coming from around the pond, and the flies had disappeared all together from the multi coloured lights. Not one sound could be heard, not one distant, quiet, sound. It began to frighten her and she moved back more, flashing the torch around as she did so. A shadow suddenly formed from within the thick dense trees and her eyes widened slightly. More twigs snapped and it began to move. She squinted and shined the light, annoyed that it gave very little amount of light at a far distance. The cat suddenly jumped from her arms and it scarpered over the next garden, leaving her all alone. Her feet moved back again, and she felt stupid for going outside. It was only the garden but, then again, people got murdered in their own homes. The shadow rose, forming bigger, and she faintly made the outline of shoulders. It moved through the trees then, and a small frightened gasp left her lips.

''What are you doing?''

A small frightened gasp left her, and the torch crashed to the ground, rolling across the grass. Heart banging furiously in her chest, she turned around. Christine stood by the door with a confused look upon on her face, her hair scattered and poofy, all signs she had been just awoken. Her eyes went around the garden with that same look she wore and, a second later, they looked back at her. Boadicea took in her tired face, and guilt swept through her. She jumped suddenly when the cat came out of nowhere, and a scowl came as it moved around Christine, purring loudly as it did so. Now it chose to come back. The scowl deepened on her face as she stared at it.

''Why are you outside, Boadicea?'' Christine picked up the torch and looked back at her.

She looked away from that cat. ''I…there's someone in the garden.''

A glance was swept around then, and a frown came onto her face when she looked back at Boadicea. ''There's nobody here.'' She peered at her. ''Are you alright? You're as white as a ghost.''

Boadicea shook her head. ''I'm fine. I did see someone out here. They were by the trees.''

She stared at her for a minute and sighing quietly, she moved. Biting her lip nervously, Boadicea followed behind her. Smacking the torch in her hand, she shone it when they came to a stop in front of the trees. Boadicea stayed some feet away, but the nerves were easy to see upon her face. Her eyes went all around, and an unsure look came onto her face when she saw nothing but branches covering the ground. Did she see things? No, she was positive at what she saw. It wasn't her imagination, or because she was tired. Her eyes weren't playing tricks on her or something stupid along those lines. There was indeed somebody in the garden. With more confusion, she looked around, wondering how they had mysteriously disappeared into thin air. Her eyes went upwards, taking in the black star filled sky, and then with a deep frown, she looked back into the trees. Her arms crossed as a light shiver ran through her, and she shook her head in bewilderment. The cat moved around the two, no puffed up fur or angrily growls. It purred happy in content, and looked back up at her with its yellow orbs.

Stupid cat she thought and then sighed. Christine gave the garden a once more look over, and then turned back to Boadicea. She shook her head, but there was no annoyance like she would have expected from any person who was rudely awakened.

''You're just tired.'' She tutted when she looked her up and down. ''Get inside. Look what you're wearing. It's indecent.'' Her eyes went around. ''Honestly, dear, this is Santa Carla. You don't just walk out in your underclothes.''

She looked down at herself and a blush appeared on her cheeks. ''I…Right.''

Her eyes glanced one more time around the garden and, shaking her head, she followed Christine inside.

It was just her imagination.

* * *

''Where did you go? I was calling and calling-''

Shutting her window with a sigh, she moved back into bed, not feeling at all sleepy like she once did. Her mother sounded slightly annoyed, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It was probably nothing important. There was no asking how she was, or what she had been doing. Oh, no, her mother never brought things like that up when they did talk.

''I had to do something.'' She finally said and studied a picture on her wall.

There was no point in attempting of trying too go back to sleep. It would have been near impossible now if she tried, and even if she did, it would have been one lousy hour she could have had. It was another night of her getting very little sleep, another night of her annoyed with Santa Carla. Sometimes she really did hate the town. She hated the night's heat. She hated the loudness of the town and, right now, she hated it all together with a burning passion.

''Well, I was ringing to tell you that I'm coming to see you soon.'' Her mother suddenly said.

Her fingers stopped picking the sequins off the bedspread, and a blink of surprise left her. She sat further up and then frowned. ''Coming to see me? Since when do you have time-''

''Well….''

She quietly sighed. Of course there was a reason behind it. Why did she have her hopes up? There was never going to be a day when her mother would ring her, speak to her for an hour at how she was doing. Heck, she still hadn't asked her how she was living in her own apartment, her own home. No, her mother hadn't even brought it up, and she was even more surprised she still had Christine's number after all these years. When she was younger, and she used to stay with her, it was never her mother who rang her. Occasionally her father would, but most of the time it was her nanny. She didn't hold it on her mother, and she didn't hate her for it, but sometimes, just sometimes she wished she would give her the time of the day once in a while. She knew her mother didn't do it deliberately; it was just because she was so devoted to her work; it was pretty much her life. She always said her mother was married to her job. Late nights at the office, staying there over night, staying at hotels for meetings and conferences with other members of the board. It sucked to have a parent who was a lawyer.

''Well?'' Boadicea repeated and began fiddling with the sequins again. There was silence and she found herself huffing in annoyance. She wanted to shout, say it. The mood she felt before had long disappeared. Now, she didn't want to speak to her mother.

''I'm going to be in San Francisco for a few weeks, maybe longer. This is going to be my biggest case yet.''

''Oh'' Boadicea couldn't help but sound uninterested. ''What's it this time?''

''This time'' her mother sighed. ''I'm representing Dean Griffiths''

A frown came onto her face. ''Who? Am I supposed to know this person?''

Her mother laughed and there seemed to be a disbelieving sound to it. ''Of course you do! Whirlwind. Does that name ring a bell?'' She sighed when Boadicea said nothing. ''The rock band from the early seventies. Of course you were only…about nine I think. She paused for a second. eight...ni... How old are you now?''

''What!'' A look of disbelief came onto her face. ''I'm sorry; I think I need my ears checked. Did you ask me my age, mother?'' Her hand clenched when she felt anger. ''I'm twenty, twenty years old. That's after nineteen and before twenty one. Twenty years old. You should write that down. You might forget. Have you already forgotten?''

''Young lady! There's no need to use that tone with me.''

She scowled at her mothers annoyed voice. ''Then you should remember my age. You seem to know everything about this stupid whirlwind, about your stupid job, yet you don't know your own daughters age.''

It was silent for a couple of seconds, and her mother's voice was crisp when she spoke. ''I'll be flying over next week. I can't say when I'll come down to Santa Carla, but I promise I will sometime.''

''Save it.'' Her voice was cold as well. ''Don't make promises. We all know you can't keep them.''

The phone went dead then and, scowling, she slammed it down onto the receiver.

After getting changed with a sour face, she hit the kitchen. Still angry at her mother, she began taking out food, pots, pans, and other cooking instruments. Just anything to calm her down and forget about the conversation they had just had. The scowl was still upon her face when she began to whisk the eggs in the glass. The cheek of it! How dare her... She was annoyed now, annoyed that her mother didn't even know her own age but, underneath, she was hurt. She could let the fact her mother didn't have time for her slide past. She could let it go when her mother didn't ask her how she was, but her age! It was just wrong really. There was no excuse to not know her age, even her job could not be the excuse. She did get annoyed when her mother never asked her how she was, but she didn't think about it, lose sleep over it. But it did hurt as she relpayed her mother's words. The sour look increased upon her face and the ugly frown deepened.

The glass suddenly smashed and she yelped in pain and shock when a piece of it slid into her hand. A stinging sensation instantly came and she felt the wet warmth seep down her wrist. An angered mutter left her when she turned on the faucet and, pulling the glass out from her flesh, she stuck it under the water. Stupid mother, stupid, stupid, selfish parent she was. If it weren't for her nanny, and then moving in with her grandparents...Well, she didn't know what would have happened to her. Sometimes she wondered why her parents had her; it seemed there was no reason, not the reason most parents would have. Because we wanted a child, we wanted a family. That was the answer that was meant to be given. Wanted. No, her parents didn't want a child, yet they did. Why did her mother have to ring her, only annoy her even further? She wished she hadn't now, and deep within, she hoped her mother wouldn't come to Santa Carla. She didn't want to hear her yapping on about her stupid case.

''What on earth is going on?''

Christine's voice bounced around the kitchen, and this time it did sound slightly annoyed. More annoyance swept through Boadicea. Could her morning get even more shittier? Right now, it was all going crap.

Calming herself, she shook her head. ''Nothing, I had an accident that's all. Sorry if I woke you up.''

''No, you didn't. I was getting up when I heard the noise.'' Her eyes took in all the glass over the floor, and then to her hand that was still being held underneath the water. ''Let me see it.''

''Honestly, it's fine. Just a cut. I was in my own world, gripped the glass to tight…'' she trailed off and sighed quietly. She bit her lip seconds later, trying to contain angered tears. It was embarrassing more than anything; she cried when she was angry, cried when she was even the tiniest bit upset. Her stupid weakness. Now, it was just anger, and tears threatened to fill up her eyes. She swallowed the lump that began to form in her throat, and pushed her mother away from her thoughts, attempted to push away the annoyance and hurt.

Christine's pulled her hand away from the water. ''The glasses are light.'' She looked up at her, a small look of concern coming onto her face. ''I know it's not my business, but give your mother a chance.'' She had heard the conversation.

''Not you too'' she moved away from her and, grabbing a cloth, wrapped it around the wound. An ugly scowl came back onto her face. What was with everybody? Why was she just...

She shook her head. ''I'm not hungry anymore. I'll clean up later.'' Muttering something under her breath, she withdrew from the room. Tears fell then and, right at that moment, she hated her mother so much. It burned, within, turned her face a deep red, and hands clenched again. The hate and rage burned within, and she felt like screaming curses to her mother. She hated her more than anything right at that moment.

* * *

''No, good, huh?''

A voice laughed slightly at hearing those words and they shook their head, but the other could sense the fright in their eyes. Blue orbs locked onto green ones, and a grin slipped onto the ones face. The other shook their head at seeing him grin, and they rolled their eyes. Pain flashed suddenly across the girls face and the other opened their mouth, unsure of what to do.

It was easy for Paul to bring pain to people, but taking it away was something he was fucking clueless at. Hanging around with dying people was something he hadn't done before, well, not when he wasn't the one who was slowly killing them. There had been pets brought back to the cave, the ones where they were kept around for sometime, but Paul didn't bother with them for any other reason than the blood. The girl was a pet, but she wasn't like the others, which was just for the pain and blood. No, she had been for those, but there had been the sex, the drugs, and the just hanging out and getting high. But it wouldn't happen anymore. This one he bothered with still, and it wasn't for anything now; not for the sex, or blood, or any of that shit. Not anymore anyway.

He moved away from the window then, and diving onto the bed, flicked the girl on the nose, trying to do something, anything. She swore then and hit him hard across the head. His response was to laugh, and she followed, only hers was full of pain. Her hand ran itself through his hair then, and she then fiddled with the earring dangling from his ear. A look came onto her face, and a distant expression came within her eyes. Paul leant his head on her lap, and looked up at her, wondering what she was thinking. He didn't go into her mind, not this time, and not anymore would he either. He was going to give her privacy for her last remaining...however long she had left.

He guessed though, as he looked at her again, seeing that same look in her eyes. It was easy to see what she was thinking of. The fright, the horrible fear was easy to spot behind the glassed look she wore. He could smell it as well, but it wasn't tempting for him to kill her. Not like it usually would with people. The fear didn't call to him. Her face was sickly and pale and dark black, almost, bruised bags were under her eyes, giving them a shrunken look. She was so thin, just standing, he was sure she'd snap in half. Not that she could stand if she wished. It was all there; she was dying, slowly and painfully as well. Well, not so much as a slow death, not now. But the pain was there alright.

''So...'' Paul suddenly sat up and looked at her, the grin long gone from his face. ''Just saw fatso...he tells me you're hurting.'' He leant towards her. ''But you won't take any of the shit they offer you.''

She shrugged carelessly. ''I don't need that stuff. It does fuck all anyway, Paul. But what I do need is a joint. That'll help with the pain.'' She sat up, and hid the pain at doing so. Just a movement hurt, but she didn't want him to see it, she didn't want anyone to see really. No one did though, as Paul was the only one who came to see her. Now she wasn't the fucking junkie who took all that shit, now she wasn't the junkie shooting up with all the other assholes...well, no one wanted to know some dying chick anymore, all but Paul, but that was a whole load of different other shit.

''Paul can give you some medicine.'' Grinning again, he handed her a joint. ''You know the amount of shit you owe me for all...the shit I've done for you...Well...''

''I've paid you back in blood and sex, haven't I?'' A dark look suddenly came upon her face. ''You're a fucking bastard sometimes.''

He laughed. ''Well, I ain't fucking you anymore. I don't do bald chicks.''

''Fuck off!'' She hit him in the chest, a deep ugly scowl crossing her features. ''Either way, I'm too fucked, anyway. I'm dying, Paul. Any time now.'' The scowl left her face and they locked eyes. ''I can't get out of bed to piss. I feel like crap, and I wanted to die before I lost my hair. God damn it. Look at me. I'm fucking hideous. That's the shit that's getting to me. I wanted to die looking still somewhat fucking alright, with hair on my head at least.'' Her voice became bitter. ''God is a fucking fat man, just a total prick. As if the wanka isn't punishing me enough as it is. Asshole.'' A small sigh left her and she coughed, covering the pain that crossed her face. ''Fuck him, fuck them all, and fuck you too. You're a stupid fucking cunt. It's your fault I'm getting punished. Your fault for all the shit I've done. If I hadn't, then the bastard upstairs wouldn't be doing this. I'd have fucking hair on my head, I'd be standing...Give me a lighter.'' She snapped.

''No, I don't think I will.'' Paul moved away from her. ''Do carry on though. It's entertaining hearing you rattle on about shit.'' He laughed. ''You're gonna die looking fucking ugly. Well, it's actually an improvement from before.''

''Bastard. You weren't saying much when you were happy to fuck me. I'll be away from you though. That's one thing I can thank the bastard upstairs for.''

Paul laughed again, an amused look coming onto his face. ''I couldn't have been all that bad.''

''You were good for three things. Sex, drugs, and the high.''

''Ah, but I was good for something.'' He fell down onto the bed. ''It's too bad you're dying. I'm going to miss your blood.''

''That's all'' she crossed her arms. ''You're gonna miss more than just my fucking blood and you know it. Don't forget the sex, and you always came to me when wanting to shoot up. You're so full of shit sometimes.'' She peered closely at him. ''So, who was that girl?''

Paul sat up, wondering where the sudden change of conversation had come from ''What girl?''

''The porcelain doll.'' She looked at him. ''You fucking her?''

''Be more specific. I talk to and fuck loads of girls.''

''The fucking girl in white. The one I saw in your doped up mind. Brown curls, brown eyes, china face...You're a dumb bastard sometimes, no all the fucking time. I have yet to know if you're dumb or actually fucking smart.''

''I know who you're talking of.'' Paul gave her the finger. ''I should eat you. You piss me off''

''Yes, but you won't.''

''Because your blood is rank. Be lucky you're dying.''

''Again, you're full of shit. You could still kill me if you fucking wanted to and, again, you know it. Screw my blood. A human could fucking kill me without biting me. You're a fucking pussy''

His eyes flashed amber. ''Again, be lucky you're dying. You think that will spare you. Because you're rotting you can be fearless. You're the only one who can piss me off so quickly. Be grateful that I'm sparing you.'' He lay back down. ''I'd rather see you in pain''

Her reply was to stick up the finger. ''I'm sure you could bring me pain now, and a slow one at that.'' She smiled. ''You can't do it, that's why. You can't kill me.''

He looked at her. ''Say the word and I will, but you're making me re think it over. I might just do it right now. You're nothing to me; don't think you're special because you've been kept by me for so long. You're just a stupid human, one that was easy for me to get what I wanted. Nothing more. Don't think because you're dying, that's the reason I'm here, and why I haven't killed you. You were probably the best pet I've had. That's one thing I admit, but that's all you were; my blood bag. You think if you were so special to me, I'd have others.'' He laughed. ''You're still around as, although you're dying, you still amuse me. But you never know, by the end of the night I might just kill you.'' He pulled a face. ''It would piss me off if I had to; I hate killing when I don't get blood. Pisses me off, and I'd rather starve than taste yours.''

She laughed. ''You still talk shit. Thank the cancer, or should I say blame it for making me taste bad.''

''I fucking do.'' He lit up a joint and handed her the lighter. ''Hey, when you pop it, can I have your shit?''

She laughed loudly, and then suddenly stopped when pain shot through her. Paul brought the joint to his lips and watched her, waiting for her to gain herself. It did suck that she was going to die, it really did. She was the best human he kept around; the one that could entertain, please, and amuse him the most, but the downside she was the one who pissed him off so quickly. He was going to miss her, but he'd never admit it, only use her blood as the excuse.

''My shit is...shit. Why do you want it?'' She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead.

He shrugged. ''I want your bong, and some I can get money for.''

''You'll fucking take it anyway. What's the point of asking?'' A strange look suddenly came upon her face. ''Hey, I want you to do something- She seemed to hesitate- ''When I die.''

He stopped blowing smoke rings. ''What?''

''Bury me.'' A serious look came onto her face. ''Bury me, Paul.''

''What? Why the fuck am I going to do that. Some other fucker can.''

''Just fucking do it. I want to be fucking buried you crummy piece of shit, and I ask you for just that. You take my shit, I want something in return. It's easy to fucking do, you're just a lazy bastard.''

''Jesus, woman. Alright.'' He lay back down. ''I swear you could give me a headache.''

A dark look came onto her face. ''Buried, Paul, not dumped into the ocean or thrown onto some fire. I'm warning you.''

He laughed. ''Warning me. Warning me with what, Doll?''

''That I'll fucking haunt you, Paul. I fucking will, and I'll do my ranting and cursing...''

He sighed. ''I will bury you, alright? Drop it, before I do kill you''

''So, you never answered my question. The girl, who is she?''

Paul looked at her, and amusement came onto his face. He suddenly laughed. ''No one that concerns you.'' He laughed again. ''You're jealous.''

''I am not. She suddenly scowled. ''I ask who she is. Is she another pet? She better not ever be better than me.''

''Oh, shut it.'' Paul brought the joint to his lips, and sucked hard, getting more of the precious shit he needed. He inhaled strongly and looked at her. ''Your questions...god damn fucking questions all the time. I'm told that I'm a fucking ant that won't piss off. You irritate the shit out of me. She's no pet, she a nobody, alright. Answer enough?''

''No, it's-''

''Just some hot chick I tried to score with.''

She laughed in disbelief. ''Tried? Oh, I can't be hearing this. Tried?'' She suddenly howled and she still carried on even though pain came. ''You got rejected. Oh, lord, I am happy. The day I died...never would I think to hear this. So, what it she...another vamp or what?'' She laughed again when he said nothing. ''A human rejected you. A human?'' She stopped and looked at him. ''She looks like a shiny girl...all clean and tidy. Miss goody two shoes.'' She smiled when he said nothing. ''Good luck, Paul. They're hard to crack, unless you're like them. Well, we know that will never happen and you'd have to be a good actor.''

''I'll have to try then, won't I?'' Paul threw the joint to the floor and, stubbing it out with the tip of his boot, looked at her. ''Come on, we're going out.''

'No, I'm not going out!'' She shook her head. ''No''

''Yes, we are.'' He picked her up, ignoring her winces of pain. ''Don't worry I can carry you.''

''It's not like it's a problem anyway. ''I just don't want to go out.''

''I do'' Paul said and opened the balcony doors.

''You go then. Paul, I'm dying-''

He looked at her. ''So you've stated and I can tell, but...'' he grinned. ''We gotta have some fun. You know what you humans say...what is it? Live every day like it's your last. Well, you might pop it tomorrow or I might kill you tonight. Let's make the best of it.'' He took to the air then, laughing at her angered mutterings. ''You know, you're much lighter now. Don't really notice the difference; all humans are light in our eyes, but you! You were one heavy bitch.''

''Fuck off'' she spat.

He laughed.


	8. Getting nowhere

Okay, this is quite long, and it wasn't supposed to be, but...I had difficulty with this chapter, so I apologise for the crapness of it. I'm finding it hard to get into Boadicea's character as of lately, and the interactions with her and Paul are pretty much...dead. I seriously am not writing the pair good. I'm just sucking with this lately altogether.

Also, thank you Anna for another wondeful review from you for the previous chapter :DD

* * *

Despite it being night, the sand was slightly warm and inviting beneath her feet. Grains of it stuck between her toes, bringing with it a soothing sensation to her burning skin. As she looked across the beach, parts in the sand glittered slightly from the light that pooled down on the shards of broken glass. In fact everywhere she looked, her eyes found pieces of glass, sweet wrappers, and brown paper bags. It wasn't somewhere you wanted to walk across with bare feet, but the idea of putting her shoes on didn't even come to mind. The moon was exceptionally bright that night, and not one cloud could be seen within the star filled sky. It was just black with dozens and dozens of tiny glittering lights spread all over the sky.

It was just another busy night in Santa Carla altogether. Just another night of partying, murder, violence, and fun…Not that she knew about partying and things, but, just for that night, the beach had indeed called her name. She had longed for the night's air. She had longed for the feel of the softness of the sand between her toes, and the coolness of the water as she walked into the sea. There was no peace that came with it, although she longed for it. For once she yearned for the quiet. It wouldn't come in a place like Santa Carla, and it never would. Screams and hundreds of people talking invaded her ears, and the bright lights were even enough to give her a headache. Living in a small town, with the population of a few hundred, well, Santa Carla was something she could never get used to, no matter how many times she visited the place. Even when living in London, it was nothing like the town. When she lived in Santa Carla for sometime, she never really got used to it, and when returning, when she began to visit Christine, it had become foreign altogether. Now, it was just near impossible for her to ever blend and sink into a place like Santa Carla. She wouldn't ever move back to the town; it just wasn't up to her liking like it once did bring an appeal.

She preferred the little town she was currently living in. Just full of peace and quiet, and there was no violence, ever. Of course no town was perfect; there were always secrets, and with a population that small, everyone knew of you, what you did, and where you went, but that didn't bother her. She enjoyed her home, and she had no plans on leaving it any time soon.

But Santa Carla was something else altogether.

It always had a dream like feel to it, especially when she would step onto the boardwalk. And she never could get used to how people dressed and walked around. It was positively horrifying at how the girls displayed themselves. Dozens of tattoos covered their arms, lots of piercing were upon their faces, and makeup…the makeup that plastered their face was enough to make her laugh. Some honestly dressed like clowns, but some of the violence she had seen with girls, well, it terrified her greatly and, again, it was something she would never get used to. Just like the night outside of the bar…despite it being men who fought with each other, the sheer violence of it was shocking, but coming from a family like her own, and then growing up around people who were well respected, well, violence was something she wasn't accustomed with, nor used to seeing in the flesh. Although she was well aware of Santa Carla's reputation for it being dangerous…the sign gave that one a way, she at times could be stupid, now was one of them.

It was stupid and foolish to be at the beach alone, especially at the part where she was at. Deserted, and a little far away from the boardwalk, from view of it anyway. But it was trying to get some form of peace, some form of being away from flashing lights, a deep revolting stomach twisting smell, and loud and ear shattering sounds. It did very little, but a small feel of peace did come to her. She found herself sitting against a tree, watching the waves of the ocean clash against each other in gentle movements. Water began to move up towards her, bringing lots of foamy bubbles and, yet it was night, there was no escaping the heat. It was still to warm, despite the light clothes she wore. The white baggy shirt stuck to her flesh, and the light brown bottoms gave her very little comfort or attempt at coolness. The heat suffocated her, although a light breeze swept through her every so often.

As she sat there, watching those waves rise and come together, her thoughts drifted and, as she tried in vain to escape them, they came back, bringing a sense and feel of bitterness. Her mother hadn't attempted to ring back after their heated argument, and she doubted she would any time soon. There would be many surprise if her mother did come to Santa Carla, like she truly said she was planning on doing. But promises meant nothing to her when they came from her mother, and although she repeatedly said she had no wish to see her for quite sometime, a small shred of hope did surge through her. A small part did hope to see her sometime, only to see if she would keep to her words as she had stated, and not break them as she usually did. But for the words her mother had spoken with her, it was something she could not forget, and possibly never forgive her for. With every passing thought of her, small traces of anger burned within, more so when she replayed word for word that she remembered. It was just something she could not get over, no matter how hard she tried to rid those hurt felt words. How could she have not known? How could have she asked such a thing? It was understandable to some degree if her mother happened to forget to ring if there was ever a time she had told her she would of some sorts. It was understandable when she didn't speak to her for months on end, or if she forgot to send something to her, again, of some sorts, but her birthday, her age? No matter what, no matter how hard she was devoted to her work, it was, to her, unacceptable and something she couldn't let slide easily past, possibly ever. The more she thought of it, the more that hope melted, and anger burned stronger. It just wasn't something easy to forget and forgive, letting it go…it wouldn't. Did she deserve to see her? No. How she felt, she didn't. After what she had said, she had no nerve to show herself. That small thought was still ticking as she pondered over everything. What was the real reason? Of course her mother had stated that she was up in San Francisco for work, representing some ex, or whatever, rock star, but her reason for coming down to Santa Carla, was…There had been no real reason, only that she would be seeing her, but the last time they had seen each other without one needing or wanting something…The last time had been a long time, and she wouldn't have all been surprised if she wanted something when she, if she, arrived. The hope began to dim, along with the anger. She didn't care either way. But deep within, she truly didn't want to see her. Her mother didn't deserve to see her.

Unknown to her, as she sat there, slowly blocking out the thoughts and wanting something warm and calm to think about, a figure strolled towards her. They brought no sound as they moved through the wet, gunky, sand, but they were moving deliberately towards her, their eyes intently set upon her. They had noticed her, although she had not noticed them. Her eyes remained on the ocean, and the anger became nothing within her eyes. Just peace and relaxation came to her, and she lent further into the tree, letting the tense of her shoulders drop slowly. Her feet began to rake through the sand, toes curling as she repeatedly did it, catching more of that soothing feeling. Soft, delicate, fingers went to shoulders, and she sighed as she touched her burning red skin. Cool soothed the excruciating warmth of her skin, and she still remained ignorant when the person was no further that five feet away. There came no sense of danger, like certain people would feel when alone in a quit area. The feel of being watched didn't come to her either, as she became deep and lost in thoughts, only this time much more pleasant than before.

In fact, many thoughts tumbled in her mind that night, most, other than the ones of her mother, all of her stay so far in Santa Carla. More had happened in the past few days than it ever had since she had stayed there before. Paul, no matter how she disliked him, crept and snaked his way into her mind many times, in fact at least every day. The deep, loathing she had once felt for him, had slowly dropped, but the wish to steer clear of him hadn't left her at all. Granted, as she continuously thought he was nice to her, she was not stupid, as she could see through what he was up to. The ounce of jerk in him shone like some beacon, and it was easy to see to any at why he followed her, attempted to converse with her time and time again. Oh, she knew he hated the resentment and un-interest she brought to him, and she knew he despised her immune to his…whatever it was he did. Even she could admit he made her smile some of the time when they had talked, and inside she laughed quite a lot at his attempts to swoon her and crack jokes. He was one big idiot, but she was no dumb girl, and she wasn't going to be some piece of gum on the bottom of his boot. The other night when they had spoken up on the boardwalk and when he had accompanied her home, she learnt quite a few things then. No matter how friendly, funny, and all smiles he was, that air of danger was detected, and seen when he had used some sort of form of it on her, and he lied. She wasn't sure why, but he seemed to lie about some things, quite a few actually. It fooled her for a second as he had said it so naturally, but then she realised it sounded like it had been said many times, repeated to others before.

The questions, where did he live, not that she cared much, but for want of conversation as they walked, that came up; he was cautious at answering them, although he did straight away. His background, when she asked where he had come from, and how long he had been in Santa Carla, again, behind the truth of his words, were lies. And, although she knew, he frequently lied often; she cared not to know what his reasons were.

All in all, she had now realised, also, that no matter how she wished in vain for him to keep out of her way, that one wish was going to be ignored. There was no use, as he came out of nowhere when she chose to venture out into the open, and she felt there was no harm in speaking with him if they crossed paths, but there would be no meeting with him, no wanting to hang around with him, or anything else of the sorts, Just like the first time they had met, there was no interest.

''Hey, what are you doing?''

Thoughts stopped a mile, and he jumped in shock when her mind registered the sound from behind her somewhere.

Standing up, she dusted herself down. ''I…I… '' she moved back a little and squinted through the darkness, face becoming cautious. A small red glow could be seen from behind the tree and the smell informed her it was drugs. It moved, and she saw it become brighter when it was brought to lips that became visible from the light it brought. They moved then and the cautious look evaporated when she saw who it was.

''You'' A shake of the head left her, eyes filling with surprise. A sigh came and she muttered. ''I should have known.''

Paul smiled warmly. ''Hello, beautiful.''

Her eyes went around and then, frowning slightly, she looked back towards him. How could she had not heard him appear behind her? Had she been that lost in thoughts that everything was blocked out? She noted as she looked at him more closely, he wore the same clothes again, only, in surprise she noted, his long hair was gone. It was short now, some slimy substance grooming it back (most likely gel) but, even she could say, she liked it. It made his face seem more serious somehow, and that grin seemed a little more, less teasing. But the clothes….the exact same clothes and it seemed since, now for over a week since she had seen him wear them, he had not changed, nor had they been cleaned, yet his skin, although somewhat unhealthy looking, was cleanly looking.

Frown still etched, she moved a little closer towards him. ''How long have you been standing behind me?''

''Not long'' that grin widened a little more and he blew a smoke ring. ''About ten minutes. You looked lost, and I knew I could watch you without getting a stick up of the nose from you.'' He laughed when it came from her. ''You seem much more beautiful when you don't hold those faces.''

It fell from face as he said that. ''You're everywhere, aren't you?'' She sat down with a small sigh. ''Honestly, I cannot get rid of you. You're in my head constantly.'' She gave him an unpleasant look when he raised a brow, the flash of a smile coming once again. ''In a bad way, Paul. Anyway, why are you out here?'' She changed the subject to further herself from more embarrassment which would surely come.

He shrugged and sat down opposite her in the sand. ''Just for a walk, babe. Boardwalk is closed now, and I was going to walk this way.''

She turned and then frowned. ''Why that way? What leads down there exactly?''

He shrugged again. ''Nothing, just a shit load of trees, woodland.''

She continued looking across the beach. ''That's all?'' It wasn't somewhere she had been before; in fact she had never come as far as this point where she sat. Only four times had she been to the beach since staying every summer in Santa Carla. They just weren't her things, that and the heat was never nice to her skin, no matter how she attempted to protect it. She much preferred sitting outside with Christine in the garden than going to the beach for a tan.

''That's all'' he said and handed her the joint he had been smoking. A revolting look crossed her features and he withdrew his hand with his same smile. It was brought to his lips then, and she scooted a foot away from him when he deliberately blew the smoke towards her, eyes shining in amusement when that disgusted look rose upon her face. It was his turn to lean up against the tree, and the smile never left his face as he watched her. In fact it became wider when discomfort and slight annoyance replaced the disgust. That amusement increased in his eyes and they seemed bright and warm as she glanced at him.

''I have expressed my irritation with you, haven't I?'' She looked at him fully. ''If I ever were to meet someone like you again…well…I'd, I'd…'' She blushed when he laughed at her loss for words. '''You say nothing, you annoy me greatly. When you say something, I just want to…'' A clear of the throat came and she scratched the back of her neck nervously. A blink formed when she suddenly remembered something. ''Did you happen to come round the house late last night…this morning I mean?''

He stopped smoking the joint and amusement vanished from his eyes. ''Why do you ask, babe?''

''Well, I know you tend to have a habit of coming to the house completely wrecked at unreasonable times, causing much noise.'' She shook her head when he looked at her. ''Christine told me of your wrong timing to do that quite often. For drugs I presume.'' She shrugged, uncaring. ''I'm convinced someone was lurking out in the garden early hours this morning. I do wonder if it was you…''

''If it were me, I'd be banging on the door, waking her ass up.'' He grinned. ''Anyway, I have a key.''

Her eyes widened at that information. ''You do not.''

''Oh, I so do.'' That grin increased when he saw the look on her face. ''Does that unsettle you, babe?'' He laughed slightly, hands brushing along the sand. ''She used to get annoyed with answering the door, so I'm invited in at any time I want. The key is all mine.''

''You are a rotten liar, Paul.'' Boadicea crossed her arms. ''If I were to ask Christine of this, would she give conformation?''

''Why do you talk like that?'' He suddenly said.

She stopped and blinked. ''Talk like that?'' A frown was given. ''Like what?''

He looked at her. ''Talk in all these words. You talk as if you're working in some high class job or some shit. You ever speak normal?''

The look on her face said she was offended. ''I talk how I wish to. Do you see me judging how you look or how you talk? Although your manners are most certainly to be judged and are most unpleasant you do not hear me saying anything, as it is you. If you don't like it then you are most welcome to leave.''

He laughed again, that amusement returning. ''You get defensive to quick, babe. Sensitive is one word to place with you. It doesn't bother me at all, babe, just wondering why you can't talk like everybody else in Santa Carla. And I ain't going to leave. For all I know you might be a prissy bitch, again, next time we see each other.''

Her eyes became glittered in rage. ''You are so rude. Clearly it annoys you as, again, you have stated that I am some…'' she made a face. ''Prissy bitch. Not all of us are trailer trash.''

The smile slipped off his face, and a small flash of anger passed in his eyes. ''Trailer trash? You-''

''Don't know you.'' She smiled, although it was not warm. ''As you don't know me. Haven't we had this conversation before, the one where you got physical with me, might I add?'' It was her turn to have anger spilling onto her face.

He suddenly laughed, eyes back warm and teasing ''Should I not be thinking or picturing things about you right now. Naughty things'' he added and laughed when shock crossed her face. ''I'm joking, beautiful.'' A serious look came upon his face. ''I apologise if I hurt you. That wasn't a good night for me, and sometimes I can't control my temper.'' He smiled and made a sincere face. ''Forgive me, babe?'' He took it as a yes when she sighed with a small shake of the head.. ''Anyway, it weren't me outside Christine's last night.'' A look came onto his face, and something moved within his eyes, frightening even her for a second. ''Christine had any visitors lately? I'm talking about her regulars getting drugs?'' His eyes went to hers then and the intensity of them made her shift uncomfortably.

''I don't know. No, I don't think so.'' A puzzled frown came. ''Why?''

A beaming, warm, smile came onto his face when he shrugged. ''Just wondering. It could have been someone coming round for drugs. See half of them are wasters, and I'm talking about fucking junkies and alcoholics. Probably completely fucking wasted when they came round and the dumb fuckers that they are…forgot where the fuck they were.''

He was lying about something. No, he was hiding something she realised. Though his face and voice seemed to give nothing away, she sensed it. ''Then why would they hide in the garden? Even when I went out there, they chose to hide.''

She stared at him hard, suspicion in her eyes

''Look, it wasn't me, alright?'' Paul lent back into the tree. ''Why the hell would I do that? It's Santa Carla, Boa.''

''Boa?'' She shook her head, closing her eyes for a second. ''I was pretty scared.''

He laughed. ''Being scared is good. Being scared can save us''

She stared at him. ''You made no sense then''

He laughed again. ''To you.'' He lent towards her. ''Do I scare you, Boadicea?'' A flash of a grin came and she blinked.

Did he scare her? Yes, he did, and she didn't know why. He was dangerous, that showed it the night with the fighting. What he was after scared her, but there was something else altogether that scared her. Being with him in the near dark, alone, scared her, but it was always pushed away when he talked, and gave jokes, and always smiled. Yes, he did, but so did everyone in Santa Carla.

''What kind of question is that?'' A random one at that she knew.

He moved towards her. ''Just a question in which you answered my question with a question. Aren't you going to answer the question?''

''You're...'' She cleared her throat, shaking her head slightly. ''Making me dizzy. Stop saying question.'' A small sigh came and she raked her hand through her curls. ''I guess. Yes, you do.'' She looked away from him. ''There's nothing cool about having people scared of you, Paul. I wouldn't want that. You want people to like you not be scared when they come across you''

''Depending on what you came across.'' He smiled widely when she looked back at him, a small furrow of the brow coming. Now she felt confused. He seemed to be doing a lot of that that night. If she wasn't annoyed, amused, scared even, it was confused. Her eyes moved to the joint between his fingers. Drugs she thought to herself. It was the drugs she put it down to. Her eyes moved back towards him to find he was staring at her curiously, no grin, or laugh in his eyes. He looked completely serious.

She found herself leaning towards him. ''Do you like people being scared of you?'' It was a whisper and she didn't know why she did it. Maybe she didn't want to know the answer, but the question still formed. This time it wasn't a question out of boredom. It was asked with, like he was looking at her, curiosity.

He stared and she began to frown, wondering what he was thinking. A small tilt of the head came and the furrow of a brow followed with it. This seemed to snap him back. He suddenly laughed, and she blinked. It wasn't the usual laugh she had heard. It was warm, yet excited, mixed in with something else. The drugs. Just the drugs...

He lent towards her just as he did with him. His eyes filled with something and the curiosity grew. ''You wanna know?''

She nodded, and that grin slipped on. He lent closer towards her and she moved back a little. That grin widened and he filled the space between them. ''Yeah, I do'' The grin vanished. ''Even you''

She moved away, a crinkle of the lip coming. ''Does it make you feel strong, powerful, above everyone else?''

''I am''

Another disgusted look came and she crossed her arms. ''Because you're in a gang, do drugs, be with all these girls, and cause trouble? Hmmm. You're really awesome, aren't you?'' She stood up. ''You know what I see? A jerk, a stupid jerk. I would never go out with you, and this is one of the reasons why. Easy for you to act a...an ass, but not once can you be just...you're so vain and in love with yourself''

He stared at her for some seconds and then began to laugh, body shaking ''Hey, you asked, and it's got nothing to do with because I want to feel strong or some shit. I like people being scared. Make them squirm.'' he laughed again when she gave him a revolting look. ''Stop being so stupid and sit down. Anyway, babe, not you though.'' He winked. ''You squirm as it is'' His hand shot out, grabbing hers just as she went to leave. ''Don't go. You really need to loosen up and take shit in your stride. You'll never survive in a place like Santa Carla as you are, and...I don't go with as many girls as you think.'' He pulled her down, earning a flash of surprise in her eyes. ''I'm a guy. We all have needs, and drugs...Hey, I have fun, and maybe you should spend a night out with me. I can show you fun.'' A shake of the head came from him when she eyeballed him in distaste. ''Always thinking things like that straight away. I didn't mean that. Can't you give me a break? I like girls, I like drugs, and causing trouble. I like having fun. Anything wrong with that?''

Anger burned in her eyes and she yanked her hand from his, to pent up to notice how cold his touch was. ''If you wish to do drugs, be with girls, and cause trouble, then that's entirely up to you. It's your decision, your life. I mean who am I to say anything. It's none of my business, but for once look away from the mirror and grow up, because you are an asshole, Paul.''

The response was another laugh. ''Did you say asshole? So you do bite.'' His lips twitched and amusement came. ''It seems we're never going to come to a standstill. You hate how I am, and I hate that you can't have fun but...Look, personally, I really don't give a shit how you are. Don't bother me, so why have you always got to get shitty with me? Can't you just give me a break? I ain't done shit to you. You don't know me, and you always have to look at me like I'm shit. Normally, I wouldn't give a fuck.'' He grinned. ''People who give me shit...I just have fun about it, and..'' .he lent forward. ''Always get my own back, but, with you, I'll make you an exception.''

Anger bubbled to the surface, and even though he saw it coming, he didn't stop her hand connecting with his cheek. It was harder than the last and he would have laughed if it weren't for how pissed she looked. He wasn't going to start all the way from the beginning again.

''You are absolutely vile.'' She stood up, feet kicking sand all over him. ''What was I thinking? I knew I shouldn't haven't given you a thought, maybe a chance.''

He blinked, doing a re wind. He jumped up when he took in her words. ''No, give me a chance now.''

A shake of the head was given. ''You're pathetic. Goodbye, Paul.''

* * *

''I couldn't say everything, could I?''

Marko turned away, grin coming. ''No''

Paul shook his head, joint coming to lips. Hard was an understatement. He made sure he didn't say something offensive and she still bit. The way he felt he was just going to snatch her and kill her, but then he hadn't had a challenge like her, nor someone who made him so curious. Only the past few nights had she, and he still baffled on why. But he hated her, hated her fucking smart mouth, stupid politeness and good words. Did she ever say anything bad about anyone. Sure, she called him an asshole, but that was fucking it? Everything he had picked up so far only made him more confused or rather annoyed. Twenty years old and she was like a child, spoke like someone well in their thirties, yet had the quickest short fuse he had seen, and one fucking word got all those looks coming. They usually fucking came anyway. If it would have been someone else who looked down on him like shit, spoke to him like shit, he would have fucking killed them. Oh, but never in anger with him. That just wasn't Paul. Always having a laugh about it, and only playing games.

He was trying to figure how he was going to break down her disgust with him, her temper that came out of nowhere with one word he said. Once again his ego had been slapped, along with himself, and he didn't know which one to be pissed about. Letting a fucking human hit him, one that thought she knew everything about him, or his charm once again not working. Didn't he want to show her what he was really like, why he loved people being scared. No, she was still a challenge, and it was more the hitting and words she spat about him that got him pissed the most. He wasn't even close to being bored. He knew nothing of her, not really. Some things he couldn't get to, which was like that with others. A place deep in their mind which was locked and it was still something he, David, or any of the others didn't know why you couldn't access it. It wasn't the sex he was after. Sure, she was hot, but he could get ass anytime he wanted to. It started off with that, along with the rejection in which he couldn't take, but Paul wasn't that much of a sex addict as all the girls thought. Sure, he was with girls usually every night, but it didn't mean he fucked a girl every night. He just liked chicks, and it was a mood for him, like the drugs. He had to have his precious weed all the time, but he didn't get high every night, like some he did. No one really knew Paul, not all those who thought they knew of him. It was the rejection which made Paul see her, but now a curiosity was forming. A rare breed she was, and it was trying to break down her disgust and loathing for him he was tackling.

Rejection and curiosity...

''She hit you because you answered a question?'' Marko turned towards him. ''I would have killed her if she hit me'' He turned away, but not before nicking the joint from Paul. ''Or hit her back depending on my mood.''

Of course Paul wasn't surprised by what Marko said. He wasn't the quietest out of all four, but he chose to grin and play, rather than talk and be...like Paul. Marko was sweet, sick, twisted all over, all with a playful side, and a vicious, poisonous, mind, temped by a bad temper when it came to the opposite sex. He was closer to David when it came to females. No interest, although he didn't possess the want for control like there leader did. He loved to fuck them over, take everything, and use his charm as he subtly took and took...he played with their minds, used his mojo shit on them, filled them with his fake, sweet words, and all the kindness that came with it, right until the end, the end when he became bored with playing with them. The girls he went for were ones like Boadicea, all innocent, and childlike, ones who thought everything was mostly good, who couldn't say a bad thing about anyone. Girls in which he could slowly consume their goodness, turn them into sinister...bitches, and then give them the element of surprise, once they fall for everything, loving him, like they fall for the words in which he used back, in which he pretended he did with them. He was also the only one out of him, David and Dwayne who had the patience with Paul. But he liked playing with him as well, always teasing, and playing his words back. Putting Paul in his place on several occasions. They were the closest, though both tended to steer clear when it came to girls. Torturing them mentally and subtly, sadistically, like Marko did, was not Paul. Bouncy and friendly with chicks wasn't Marko, not if it wasn't all for the act.

''Like you, she has a temper problem'' Paul stared at him. ''You are seriously sick.''

A sly grin was flashed. ''If a girl is going to hit you like a bloke, then she can take a hit back.'' He shrugged slightly. ''We've done worse than just hitting someone, so I don't know why you get so defensive over hitting women. You're happy to mess and fuck around with them during feeding''

''That's different.'' Paul answered.

Amusement came. ''How?'' He shook his head slightly. ''If she were anyone else, you-

''No, I wouldn't have. Hey, I may eat chicks, but I won't hit them.''

Marko grinned wider. ''The shit that comes out of your mouth...Just her you won't, you mean? If that were another girl, Paul. You would have hit back''

The finger was given. ''I don't go around beating up chicks. Stalk them and then eat them sure, but I won't-

''Neither do I'' The joint was passed back. ''You have and you would have if she were anyone else.'' Another grin was given.

Paul stared at him. ''You're an irritating pixie.''

The response was the amusement rising in his eyes, and both suddenly stopped when they picked up a sound.

A grin slipped onto Paul's lips and the bag of weed instantly vanished into thin air, along with the matches, filters, and papers. ''Daddy's home''

Joints were stubbed out, being put into pockets, and hands came to shoulders. A frown was given in return.

''You hide, I'm coming with you.'' A serious look came into Paul's eyes. ''You go, the pruned up witch will be on me.''

Marko shuddered. Only she could do it, make him feel a fucking fear, and he hated the bitch with a burning passion. The images of wrinkled fingers moving towards him, the gleam of the eyes...Another small shudder came, something he wouldn't have ever showed around the guys. ''She's going to touch me, I know she will.'' The grin slipped from his lips. ''I'll bite her fingers, so help me god, I'll bite her fucking fingers off.''

As it happened every so often, all had to scrub up, remove earrings, chains, and other jewelery, have their hair short and cut tidy, and have dinner suits put on. That night was one of them, and Paul didn't mind it, not really, only it was her he couldn't stand. Marko suffered the most as her eyes were always on him and, at first, Paul laughed, but when Marko started to hide, the tables turned on him. If it were anyone who he hated, it was her, but none of their hate could match up to what Marko felt about her. He wanted her to die, a painful one at that for every touch she gave, but it would result him getting staked as well, or worse, thrown out into the sun by an enraged Max. In fact, someone like them, well, there was no getting to a vampire like her, one who was so highly protected. She owned Santa Carla, held the strongest coven, and to Max, to them and the rest, she was classed like royalty amongst their groups. Marko would have rather spat on her, gouged her eyes out like an enraged cat, but that was never going to happen. But how she liked him, called him all these sweet names, and how she wanted him in her coven. He hid back another shudder, and the thoughts vanished, though that dread at what was to come filled.

''I'm not sure what's worse.'' Paul paused, fingers drumming on knees as he stared ahead. ''Her, or her girls?''

Both locked eyes and Paul let out one small curse. ''I mean they're fucking hot, but they scare the shit out of me.''

''They remind me of pink fairy cakes.'' Marko didn't laugh with Paul. ''They're another bunch, I'd love to drag out from their rich, snobbish, circle-

''I think they'd die again if they saw how we fed, even the old bat herself.'' Paul pulled a face, a mutter coming. '' Crazy fucking bitches. Crazy bitches who insanely fucking giggle.''

Paul stopped. ''I'm hiding'' He stood up, eyes going downwards to Marko. ''I'm hiding. I don't give a shit about you, but the Widow Johnson ain't fucking coming by me''


	9. A favour

''Call that the worst fucking night of my life.'' Bottles were passed around, along with them, joints and smokes. ''The old bat was seriously doing some raping to me in my head.'' There came some silence for several minutes, and fingers moved, turning up the volume on the radio. ''Sweet, precious, shit.'' Smoke was exhaled, pooling all around the two in thick doses. ''If I could make love to these joints, I'd be fucking them all night. Never have I needed them as much as I do now. Hey…'' Eyes turned, a cock of the head coming with it. ''Lick me all over.'' Silence and the end burned down when lips took another hit on the joint. ''Lick my body all over. Get this fucking scent off me.''

''You're high already.'' The voice was teasing, laughable to Paul's' ears, and he turned, grin being flashed.

Marko cocked his head too, eyes amused. ''As much as I want to feel sorry for you, it was an entertainment and a half.'' Fingers ran down Paul's arm, grin still plastered across Marko's face. ''Did she do that? Did she pinch your cheek and coo all those-''

''I need to throw her into the fucking sun.'' Paul nudged his fingers away. ''How the fuck do you keep up with the fucking act? All I kept imaging was grabbing a knife, I'm not infecting my mouth by trying, and cutting all her fingers away. I'd skin her like a fucking sausage. You know what I would have done-?''

''Same thing as always, isn't it?'' Marko turned away then, eyes going towards the fountain where a trio of girls sat around, all decked out in the same gold studded denim jackets and short mini skirts. That grin became wider, innocent look sliding when a few looked towards him and Paul, giggling more than what they were already. Paul, however, showed no interest, and, instead, lent backwards into the couch, withdrawing another joint from his jacket pocket. As in Marko, who hadn't returned to the cave feeling sick and not so much pissed, Paul had returned in his not so usual self. That night it was all him getting it off the bat, instead of it being Marko, who the Widow hardy had an eye for that night. Though, now, he was just fucking glad he didn't have to wear the shit he had been for any longer. He had felt like them for that time he was at Max's; all dressed up clean and not being able to swear once, although a few words did slip, which was of course deliberate, but it was all about having to not be himself.

He really fucking hated going to the Widows.

Although the, as Max liked to call it, get together wasn't as long as they usually were, every minute was near enough still torture for poor Marko, for fear she would advance towards him, and of course Paul as well, who seemed to be getting more attention from the Widow than he had any other time. More than Marko that night he had, and it didn't get any better once her girls crowded all around him, talking in their high classed voices, and moving around like fucking angels. Usually Paul would have grinned, talked back, but not with those girls. Not unless he found the shit they liked interesting anyway, in which he didn't. It had been a waste of two hours for him, although the last ten minutes was an interest for all four boys. More Marko than anyone, which surprised Paul, as the midget didn't care for girls, not even one of their own. Until the new addition to the old bat's family made an appearance that was. If Paul could have, he would have felt sorry for her, but he didn't. She had been quiet for the most part, standing far away from them, the expression upon her face showing she didn't want to be with any of them. A helpless look filled her eyes when she was addressed by her new sisters or the witch herself, and fear when he or the rest of the guys looked at her. The minute she was escorted into the room, much to her discomfort and irritation, all knew she was a newbie. It was no surprise though, as the Widow tended to bring in a new addition every so often.

After she was flustered and pampered by her sisters, who subtly teased and laughed at her, she was pushed forwards towards them. Barely ten words slipped past her lips during the long conversation that became with the four, including the bat and Max himself. Her eyes remained downcast for the most part until she was showed up in front of all for her manners. As soon as Max disappeared with the Widow and the girls in tow, Paul was the first to jump onto her, asking all things. There came short, simple, answers, and she moved further back with every time each one spoke. After some minutes, David and Dwayne moved away, finding nothing interesting, but Paul stayed, more questions coming after each one was answered. Marko eyed her in silence as Paul continued his ramblings, getting even shorter replies in return. The discomfort rose from her when the staring continued, when more questions were asked, and then fear came when he got close towards her, hands touching her face, which also resulted in a flash of amber eyes, a defensive snarl coming with it.

A laugh came, hand touching her once again. It all ended with him getting thrown across the room, crashing into the small shelf, smashing Max's beloved vases. It didn't end there, as all three were told off. Paul having to apologise, her having to do the same, and also having threats given by her brother who turned up minutes later. And despite all there, Max sending him warning looks to shut his mouth, Paul had to be...Paul. Insults were given back, which then led to a punch up, Max's sitting room getting even more trashed, his beloved things also getting destroyed. The bat expressed her disappointment and disgust with his boys, Max apologised repeatedly, all the while sending Paul disappointed looks as well, and Marko just lent against the wall, grin plastered across his face as he watched the scene in silence.

''You need to be stricter with them, Max.'' The Widow's hands came together as she looked at all four. ''It's disrespectful and intolerable. I expect them to behave when I next come around, and...'' She turned around, eyeing Jasmine, the newbie, who sat upon the floor, seeming somewhat stunned. ''I am disappointed in you. There will be consequences for your actions tonight.''

A scowl was given in return and she swiftly stood, anger flaring in her eyes. ''Don't blame me you stupid woman.'' A gasp came from her sisters, and hands came to their mouths. ''Blame anyone, blame your stupid self. You were the only who arranged this stupid...tea party shit. You express your disgust for...what is it? The wild hooligans.'' She waved her hand. ''These of course you mean? They are a clear example, yet you still choose to mix with them.''

Paul laughed, the rest stared in silence, and Max shook his head, anger coming when he looked back at the boys who were watching everything in amusement. The widow simply turned away, blank face coming.

''You should apologise for that, Jasmine.'' The one sister, Tess, moved towards her. ''If it is anyone's fault, it is yours. You are the one who cannot control your emotions. You're so rude and ungrateful. Apologise.''

That anger burned. ''I will not'' She tensed up when Tess moved closer towards her, small traces of anger forming upon her face. ''You're just perfect, aren't you? Let me tell you this, sister. Nothing is perfect, and not all of us are sucker uppers. You're a stupid, irritating, cow, and I didn't even want to be here, with you, in your stupid family-''

The Widow turned then and everyone went still when her eyes flashed. ''Do you not like this lifestyle?''

The girls eyed her, shaking their heads with innocent looks plastered upon their faces, though small smiles graced there ways onto their lips. Paul was yanked into the kitchen by an enraged Max a second later, where David followed, and the rest stayed behind, watching the Widow in silence. That grin was still on Marko's face as he watched, though his eyes were curious as he stared between the two.

''I...'' She turned away, hiding the emotions upon her face.

''Do not turn away from me!'' The sisters bit their lips, eyeing each other when the Widow's voice rose a little.

''Lifestyle?'' Anger came again, hiding the fright well just as she turned to face her. ''Where I have to wear these stupid dresses, act all posh and perfect...a lifestyle in which I didn't want.'' Her voice rose as well, though it trembled. ''In which I had no choice to be this...monster''

''Oh, sister, you really are being immature and silly.'' The other sister moved towards her. ''Stop feeling sorry for yourself. At least you have a family. Some are changed and then left alone, to fend for themselves.'' She flicked her hair behind her shoulders. ''They never last long.''

''Yes, Sasha is right.'' Tess moved behind her sister. ''If anything, you're lucky to be so looked after and cared for. You should be showing respect and thankfulness. Really, you should stop being so childish.'' Her eyes pierced Jasmine's.'' You don't care; you're just looking to cause problems.

''I completely agree, Tess.'' Sasha shook her head. ''So rude and-''

''Ungrateful'' Tess finished. ''You should be punished for how you've spoken tonight.''

''Apologise sister''

''Yes, it's not even close at how you've treated mother tonight'' Sasha said.

''Mother?'' Jasmine cut in, lip curling ever so slightly. She was old enough to be her great grandmother by her looks.

They moved around her, nods coming. ''Yes, Jasmine.'' Tess lent towards her.

''She's ours and yours'' Sasha moved behind her, hands brushing her hair behind her shoulders. ''We all get angry sometimes, but you took it too far. The least you can do is say you are sorry.''

''And mean it'' Tess said, a small smile coming.

She moved away from them, away from their hands that flustered her. The kitchen door was opened then, a slightly angered Paul stepping into the room with a surprisingly calm Max just behind him. The Widow moved away from the girls a second later, expressing her apology for how her ''new addition'' treated his home. Max assured her it was fine, understanding how it was with new ones, and it was his turn to apologise again for Paul provoking and teasing her. The girls moved away from Jasmine, coming on either side of where Marko and Paul stood, instantly complimenting them on their outfits.

A sigh formed past Jasmine's lips and she was suddenly yanked backwards, eyes meeting a calm blue pair. ''Do I apologise?''

Her brother had been quiet during the argument that had blown up, but that usually happened. He just fought more than anything. ''It would be the right thing to do, Jasmine.''

''It wasn't my fault. I...wanted to stay home, but-''

''You have to go out.'' He moved back a little more, taking her with him. ''I know, Jasmine. Paul has the tendency to do that, in fact all the time. You should take it in your stride, or walk away.'' He lent against the wall. ''Take the punishment, apologise, and it will be left alone''

* * *

The feel of something hot on Paul's hand brought him out of his deep, stated, mind, and he slowly turned, snatching the lighter from Marko who watched him with that same grin, eyes a little curious. It had been an eventful night for all four, though Paul was the one having the punishment. It didn't really bother him though, as they were always, well, usually simple things, though some had been his own living hell. Staying with Max was one of them, looking after Thorn another, and then things like drugs being confiscated, and not even being allowed to venture out of Max's for some nights, which was also no seeing the guys. He just hoped it wasn't going to be a severe punishment like he had been given before. Those really did fucking suck.

Marko turned away after a few minutes, eyes going back towards the petite blonde he had been looking at for some minutes. Eyes alighted with poison, and that grin easily smeared itself onto his face, sweet and spiteful all in one. After a second, he moved, leaving Paul alone in his own thoughts. Which didn't last long as one of the girls was suddenly sitting beside him.

He turned towards her, big, lazy, grin coming. ''Hello, beautiful''

A smile instantly lighted up her face and she held out her hand. ''Fey''

He paused, looking down at it. ''Fey.'' He took it then, fingers entwining with hers. ''I like that''

If it was anymore possible, her smiles brightened, and she folded her hands into her lap when he withdrew his. He looked at her then, instantly getting a full read on her. After a second or so, he turned away, grin stretching even wider. Though she hadn't wanted to come with her friends, there was no caution or untrust with her. In fact she was pretty much comfortable all the way round, but this was nothing new. The tourists were all the same, even when the big red letters on the welcoming sign smacked them hard in the face. Just five words got one instantly trusting him, and they were so easy to pull away from the open. Though for Paul, it was all the same. Humans really were blind when danger whacked them across the head, but he wasn't complaining. It was easy pickings that way.

After a few minutes silence, and having enough of listening into her pretty head, he sat up straight. ''I don't know about you, but this is boring me.'' He turned to look at her, seeing she was watching him eagerly. He smiled, eyes warm and inviting. ''Want to come for a ride with me down the beach?''

''Oh.'' She bit her lip, eyes going around. ''Maybe I should stay with the others.'' She looked at him. ''If my mother were to happen to see me, without them, with you, well, she'd pitch a fit.''

''I doubt she'd be on the beach now.'' He was still smiling, voice luring, and she slowly became entranced.

''Well, we did say were going into town, but...'' She broke off, nodding her head. ''Yeah, that sounds great''

''Party on then.'' He pulled her up from the couch, arm instantly encircling around her waist. ''You ever been on a bike?''

She shook her head, beaming smile, and face happily in content. ''No''

Paul smiled back, shaking his head slightly when she looked away. Humans...they really were stupid.

* * *

Edgar was just, begrudgingly, sweeping the floor when his head came up at the sound of someone else coming into the store, a peculiar overpowering scent following with it. The narrow of his eyes ceased at seeing who it was, but then came back when he was met with a, bright, smiling face. Upon hearing Edgar grumble something, Alan popped up from behind the shelf a second later, forgetting all about the box of comics that was set upon the floor, ready to be stacked onto the shelves. A blink formed when he saw the instigator of Edgar's expression, though it was usually like that anyway. Both looked at each other for a fraction of a second, then to her when she moved towards them, hands clasped out together in front of her.

''Hello, Edgar.'' Boadicea smiled, coming to a stop in front of them. She turned then. ''Alan''

Edgar grumbled something else before wiping the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead, face flushed. Propping the broom up against one of the shelves, he turned his eyes on her, all unwelcome and somewhat distant. ''What do you want?''

Alan nudged him slightly, getting a weird, questioning look off Edgar, but she however didn't pick up on the slight coldness to his voice, or she pretended not to notice. Edgar didn't care either way. She had no comics with her, so there really wasn't anything to say, though unlike Alan, who noticed, he questioned why she was there and, secretly, he liked her, though he'd never tell Edgar that. It wasn't like him to like anyone, but it was unusuall to meet someone who was nice like her, and to the fact Alan remembered her, had even liked her back then. Both were scarred by how they were brought up, but they were healing as they had each other, but Alan sometimes craved the comfort, in which Edgar could have given, but never did. It was rare that both would seek comfort in one another, not unless it was truly serious, and even then, it wasn't like Alan had seen other brothers be with each other, or just families in general. Edgar just followed out with things, remained gritted and hard, and Alan stayed silent, always following after his brother. Butt being quiet allowed him to see more, and to observe people. Working in a comic store that was situated right in the middle of the boardwalk gave Alan plenty to look at, as it was Edgar who usually served, and Alan just sorted through comics, watching people of all different shapes and sizes move in out, back and forth. It had its advantages. Alan liked Boadicea, he liked that she was friendly, but it was something he'd never share with Edgar, no matter how close they were. It was something he hadn't really had before, comfort, a feel of being loved and wanted, and somewhere there, Alan got a feel of genuine like, concern, and kindness from her. Edgar was only interested in taking the comics, not having a good chin wag. It was only work, school, and keeping the bills up to date. Fun never came into the equation; Edgar didn't know what fun was.

''Well...''

Alan blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. Edgar was, now, sweeping the floor again, and Boadicea was now standing by the till, fingers drumming onto the counter. ''I was wondering if you boys wanted to get some food?''

This stopped Edgar from what he was doing, and Alan didn't hide the confusion, and somewhat eagerness. ''Wh-''

''We can't.'' Edgar continued sweeping then. ''In case you haven't noticed, we have a store to run, and this is the tourist season.''

''Oh, well...'' She paused, hand raking through her mop of brown curls. ''How about Alan comes with me, and we'll come back with food?''

Edgar quietly sighed. ''Look-''

''Okay.'' Alan stepped forwards, ignoring the look on his brother's face. ''Err, where?''

She shrugged, unsure. ''Pizza or chinease?''

Alan nodded, small, faint, smile coming, in which she returned it. As they began to leave, Edgar pulled him back, expression showing he wasn't pleased. ''Where are you going?'' His voice was cold, yet confused.

''Food, Edgar.'' Alan moved away from his brother's grip. ''I'm hungry and she's paying, so...''

Boadicea stepped forwards. ''We won't be long, Edgar. I'll bring you something back too.''

Before he could give a snappy comment, or a cold look, they were disappearing out the store.

* * *

Alan felt weird. Of course he went outside, but when the boardwalk was heaving, he was usually working, and when he did venture out, Edgar was always there connected to his hip. Being out now, without Edgar, was somewhat strange for him, even more strange that he hadn't remained silent, and stayed when Edgar had pulled him back in the store. There were lots of reasons why Alan had, one of them being he was questioning why she had popped up out of nowhere, to offer to buy them food also. As he pondered these thoughts in silence, eyes somewhat downcast, she spoke up, instantly snapping the train of questions.

''I know Edgar dislikes me.''

He looked at her, mouth opening, but she spoke again.

''It's fine, Alan.'' She laughed quietly, gently. ''I understand. You two only have each other, and I know you're probably wondering why I'm doing this...It's not because, as Edgar, I'm certain, thinks, charity, but I wanted to actually ask you two something, but given the coldness with Edgar towards me, I doubt he'd be agreeable.''

This peaked all interest and Alan stared curiously, waiting for her to continue. They remained walking down the boardwalk, and when she never said anything, he took the time to look at her. A small furrow of the brow came, and then a faint concern, concern at how easy it was to read her, to see what she was like. Oh, no, Alan knew that was no good for the rapists and filth of the town, and it was more concern for how innocent she was, despite the age she was at. Even Alan had more common sense, some experiece that the world wasn't good and life sucked. It was no good for her to be in a place like Santa Carla, not how she was. Those who came to the town with a bright light around them, sooner or later fell into the drugs, the sex, the sins, and all the other evil that plagued over Santa Carla. The light melted in time. Mostly, Alan was concerned for her safety, at how she was, that she didn't see how bad anything was. This was another thing that somewhat frightened Alan, for he never really truly became concerned for another, other than Edgar of course, but it made him on edge, set a whole load of sharp prickles up his spine at how blind she was, at how she looked at everything. It was bait all over, her innocence was like blood for a shark, and Alan didn't like it.

''What I wanted to ask was I need one of you.''

Alan frowned, unclear of what she meant.

They stopped at a little cafe on the corner of the boardwalk and Alan stared at the people loitering around outside it, some of the eyes going to them; to her.

She turned to him, smile coming. ''We'll get something from here, and then head over to the takeaway''

Alan nodded in silence, following behind her as she pushed open the door to the cafe. Inside, it was thick with smoke, smelt of a funny, foul, smell of bad milk, and all Alan could pick up was loud laughter, a ringing sound, and a booming, banging, vibration all along the floor. His eyes moved around, going over the tables, flickering from face to face with the blank stare he usually wore. It was a bad choice. He hadn't been in this cafe before, and it was sure as hell somewhere he had no plan on going again. Why she had chosen this place out of all puzzled him, and she didn't seem to notice the discomfort on his face as he looked around some more, catching a few pairs of curiously, interested eyes that stared at her, but him as well. He could hardly see in front of him for how clouded with smoke it was, and most of the tables were occupied with loud, frightening, people that looked they could break him by just a pinch of the fingers. A small pull of the face came when he saw cigarette ends on the floor, also stubbed out in bits of food on chipped plates upon the tables. Flies buzzed around on the grimy windows, and the small light yellow curtains pushed together on each end were now a dirty, brown, stained colour. A group stood around a jukebox, and another load of people by the game machine, all looking intimidating and dangerous.

Alan swallowed, finally turning to Boadicea. ''This is a cafe?'' His voice was slightly sarcastic, also repulsed. ''It's a bit grimy''

She looked around for a second, like him, becoming disgusted. ''I'm sorry, Alan. I actually hadn't noticed.''

A surprised look was given. How could have she not?

In truth she had been thinking of Paul, and she didn't know why. The idiot just popped into her mind, those eyes all warm and inviting as he stared, and his kind, sincere, words rang from the few nights back. God, she disliked...

''Boadicea'' Alan had a hold of her arm, leading her out of the cafe, away from the choking smoke, the gazes that made him on edge, and the people who looked like they'd batter you for so much as looking at them.

''Chinease it is.'' She sighed quietly, rubbing her temples. ''Damn, idiot.'' It was a mutter, not meant for Alan to hear, but he did. No comment came though.

* * *

They began to talk as they walked towards the takeaway. She asked what he did in his spare time. Did he enjoy school? Was there anything he thoroughly enjoyed? And then other various things like, what was his favourite comic, and his favourite food, then, what subjects were his strongest at school, and so on. She seemed genuinely interested, as opposed to just making talk as they walked together. Alan answered all, feeling somewhat uncomfortable being asked questions after questions, though he didn't mind that much. It was still busy as they weaved in and out of the crowd, steering clear of the people who race passed them. It was more packed if anything. Alan blinked, face expressionless as he watched the way she moved, almost as if she were dancing on air, though her eyes were all bright and shiny, unaware of any looks that were given to her. Alan grew uncomfortable with what he was seeing, and he looked away, eyes remaining staring straight ahead of him.

''So...'' Alan coughed slightly, hands going to jacket pockets. It wasn't like him talk. It wasn't that he didn't like it, he just preferred remaining silent, and getting everything he needed by looking and observing, but he felt somewhat uncomfortable at walking with her at how she was.

Her pace had slowed now, no longer looking like she was a ballerina. ''Where do you live?'' He shrugged slightly, saying, he was just curious. Which he was slightly.

''Oh.'' She paused, hand rubbing the back of her neck. ''Up in Scotland.''

''Scotland?'' Alan frowned a little. ''Where's that?''

''Er, Britain.''

''Right.'' He turned away, hands digging deeper into pockets.

When they waited at the tables for their order, she began to talk again, about her home, about things like gardening, comics, and movies. Alan nodded, and barely said anything, but he kept his face interested for the most part. Really, he was just itching to look around, to observe and watch those who passed them, even the ones who were sitting at the other tables not far from where they sat. He could say it had become somewhat of a habit after doing it for so long. To read people, to watch them, and see what kind of person they were. He already read her for the most part. She was different, a child of innocence, not plagued by darkness, though there were faint scars, and Alan could see it all.

* * *

Now, little miss Fey was no longer of an entertainment, Paul wasn't really in the mood to head back home and join the party, which was most likely coming to an end, or being taken over by the rest of his brothers. There would be none to spare, but fair was fair after all. There was plenty of easy pickings, so having to share was something that never really needed to be done, not unless they were having a bit of fun with a girl. Paul had had his little 'snack', and the rest of the girls were now either dead, or it was definitely heading that way.

No, what he really wanted was something tastier, something that would set his tongue alight. Of course there were two best snacks you could get, but one was something he wasn't into having, though Marko and David didn't care. Dwayne had tried it just like he had, but both hadn't gone back for seconds. Feeding off pregnant women were juicy and tasty, blood all thick and plump, sure, but Paul didn't like killing kids, even if it wasn't alive so to speak in a way. Granted, if he were starving he'd eat anything, any of them would, but that'd never happen in a thriving place like Santa Carla. Food was never hard to find, even so late into the night. There was always some hooker loitering on a corner, or a group of people hanging around at the beach. Easy pickings anytime. Old people were okay too, but they tasted funny from what they consumed, and there blood was thin, almost like a powdery taste in some way. Virgins were another thing that had tasty blood, depending on what else they took. Drug takers weren't so nice, given on what they were taking. Just a taste of a person's blood told him everything he needed to know. Things like were they alcoholics, depressed, did they have anything wrong with them, or were they pregnant. A swallow of blood gave a vampire everything. Paul never killed pregnant women, but Marko and David did, depending on what they were like. If they were homeless, whores, drink takers, or drug abusers, they were food. Other than that, both kept away from women carrying a child. To get a virgin who was clean and pure in every way was like hitting the jackpot. There blood was intoxicating, runny, and exquisite, all that innocence to consume and take, but finding one who was pure in every possible way, by that not a drinker, drug taker, or anything else, was hard in Santa Carla. Not that Paul was fussy, but when feeding off someone on drugs, usually it made him feel the effect the drugs had given them. It never lasted long, but he only did the weed, and occasionally some pills. Heroin addicts were definitely off the menu.

As he walked along the boardwalk, searching around for someone easy to drag away from viewing eyes, a strong, powering, scent hit him, nearly making him fall backwards. It wasn't unfamiliar, and he found himself following it, pace quickening a little as he almost bounced down the boardwalk, joint behind ear, grin given to whoever passed him a glance. It was thriving, he was still hungry, but he remained moving, not wanting to lose that intoxicating smell.

He found himself stopping outside the comic store, which was another place he wasn't unfamiliar with. Comics weren't his thing, but Paul had been in the store with Marko countless times. He had a small liking for comics, depending which ones, and sometimes when Paul chose to slink with him in the store, he was waiting a good twenty minutes as Marko picked one out to buy. Being selective was an understatement. Paul usually entertained himself, rolling some up and shoving them down his pants, or hiding them in his jacket as he waited. By the time Marko was done, Paul had over three comics, none brought, but he never usually paid for anything. Everything was stolen from victims, or stores themselves. The only thing he brought, usually, was drugs and cigarettes or if it was something he knew he wouldn't find by killing someone for it.

Not bothering to venture into the store, he moved away, jumping up on the railing to sit, instantly lighting up his joint.

He sat and waited.

* * *

They sat in the small kitchen, eating in silence at the table, the occasional sounds of the fork scratching across the plate. Edgar ate with his sticks, as did Alan, but after finding her a clean utensil, she chose to eat with that instead. The silence rolled by, Edgar stared some more, and Alan continued looking down at his food, practically playing with it. Every few seconds, Edgar would move down the few stairs, peeking out the door when he was alerted by the sound of someone coming into the store. When they left, he returned, eyes going back on her. This grew her uncomfortable slightly and she laughed at herself, laughed at growing uneasy by a mere child.

''So...'' Edgar cleared his throat, looking at her. ''Alan says you wanted to tell me something?''

She put down her fork. ''I did actually. I'm working at the center with children who have disabilities, and I could really do with your help.''

Alan and Edgar shared a glance.

''Look, I know you boys are busy, and I don't want to drag you away from you day to day jobs and such, but the kids are really looking forward to this''

Edgar frowned. ''I'm sorry, but what?''

''Well, me and some of the others discussed the possibilities of having a, errr, comic day.'' She rubbed her brow, little frown coming as the overpowering scent of pot rolled thicker around them. It was beginning to make her feel dizzy and sick. ''They'd bring in their comics, if they have some, toys, or anything like that, and then we'd just spend a few hours talking about heroes/villains, what's their favorite villain, etc. An hour painting, and other things like that. It will all focus on superheroes and such.''

''Not meaning to be rude.'' Edgar's voice said it was exactly that. ''But you're right, we really don't have the time to work with kids.''

''But they're your age.'' Boadicea sighed, sitting up straighter. She was really starting to feel sick. ''Can't you at least think about it, please? They'd be really heartbroken if I say it's not on.''

''Then you shouldn't have promised them anything until you fully knew everything would go on.'' Clearing away the chinease cartons from the table, Edgar discarded them into the bin before disappearing down the stairs, leaving her and Alan alone.

''Well, a few others were supposed to come in that day.'' Her voice grew quiet. ''They can't make it though, and then I thought of you two.'' She looked at Alan. ''I'm sorry, Alan. I'll get out of your way.''

Mumbling a thanks for letting her into their private space, she also disappeared downstairs, leaving Alan with a little stab of guilt, and then interest at what she was asking.

* * *

I hope this chapter was okay for you all, and that you're not losing interest in this story. I am trying to keep things interesting, and I know some of you might want things to move on a little faster, but rushing anything never turns out great. It's quite hard to write a relationship between a vampire and human, though nothing has really moved on with them yet, but I hope you understand what I mean.

There's one thing I'm worried of. Is Boadecia a Mary-Sue or turning that way? See, with her strained relationship with her parents and such, I'm worried it's turning her a little into a MS, which is why I created her to be full of innocence, which is also sort of unique to have a character in the SC world like that, but is she, as a character, someone you can relate to, and does she come across as realistic?


	10. Back in Santa Carla

_We could have a lot of fun_.

He sure as hell could, but it wouldn't have been her type of fun, the fun she was planning along in her ditsy, dumb, head. The thoughts kept going and he listened on in two minds, one to pay her no attention, the other to merely entertain her. Sure, the tanned, big titted, blonde's were usually the sort of thing he went for, but now he only had a hunger to be a real monster that night. Though he grinned and flirted with her from where she sat over by the benches, winking and grinning devilishly wider as she, discreetly, spread her legs slightly, giving him a flash of everything, sex really wasn't on his mind. He wasn't really hungry for blood either, and shagging her like a mad dog with rabies wasn't playing in his head as well. The only thing he felt like doing was messing around with her, by that, ripping off her tits, pulling away those fake hair extensions, and seeing how ugly she really was behind the stuff she slapped on her face to make her look like some anorexic, model, when really, underneath, she was one dog.

But he could admit he had fucked some uglies, and she wasn't in the slightest one of the worst he had come across. It wasn't all about the looks with him, though nine out of ten that was what he went for, but if they matched in most things, they were a keeper for a night, or maybe more if they were lucky. It all depended on what Paul wanted to do. Unlike the rest of his brothers, he was more generous when it came to humans. He didn't kill every human he socialised with. Some he hanged with for nights, and then didn't bother with them, but never went back to kill them, unless he became a flower and they were the bee that wouldn't fuck off. But Marko and the others rarely ever spared anyone they talked with, unless it were someone in mere passing. If they were hanging with a group of girls, they were dinner after sex or whatever shit they wanted to do, and if they were let go, they usually went back for them after. Paul never understood why, but he never bothered delving into his brothers feeding habits. There were times when they fed together, or in two's and threes, and others when they were alone. If it was a quick feed, Marko and Paul usually went together, but other than that, Paul didn't like feeding with Marko for reasons that were too long to name. Most times they went together as a pack, more when it was lager quantities of people they were dining on. Times like now, Paul didn't need anyone with him for one meal, unless they wanted to share, but sharing was something that wasn't usually done.

As he was halfway through thinking going over towards where she was, still smiling and batting her lashes at him, and still clearly wanting a shag, she appeared from out of the store. In a second, he moved his grin off the smiling blonde, all thoughts to rip her apart vanishing, and put his attention on Boadicea. She hadn't noticed him as she stared down at the ground, watching a cotton candy bag move in circles as if fascinated by it, though she wasn't paying it no attention. A deep frown was etched onto her face as if she were debating on something, or thinking heavy. It was one of the two. But it was clear to see, behind her deep thoughts, she was troubled or unclear with something. And he looked into why, instantly laughing inwardly. She really was a youth of innocence, and it was also a new face she was wearing. Not repulsed, pissed, full of dislike, or disgust, but a new change of expression, that of worry and disappointment. Because of some brats Paul thought to himself. Sure he liked kids, but not enough to spend time with them, and do shit. But Boadicea had a different view. Of course she would have liked kids, her being a kid herself in some ways. It wasn't really a surprise at what she did, but more amusing at how worried she got now two little kids weren't going to help her out. He grinned, shaking his head as he watched her, looking at her as if she were something he couldn't make out, more like she was a new shiny toy he hadn't yet worked out on how to play with it. She looked miserable, she seemed in deep thought, as well as looking somewhat drunk. That made him pause, and then he looked her up and down like he usually did.

And she looked the same just as she always did.

Wearing that same type of white dress, almost like the one she had on all those weeks back at Lou's bar, though this one hugged her curves better, and was much more lower cut at her chest line. Then he smiled when he saw she had that same scooby bag upon her back, not to mention those ridiculous flower and teddy clips hooked into her curls. Jesus, she really does look like something out of a Disney movie Paul thought to himself as he watched her from across the boardwalk, still sat upon the railing. Though in most cases, the one who took a liking to someone like her wouldn't have been a monster, and though innocent, she was certainly no princess with the foul temper she had on her, not to mention some of the words she liked to call him. Well, Paul would sooner dine on a princess than prance after her, and he always liked a girl with some fire in her veins, though he wasn't one for having rejection, but then it wasn't something that would make him pounce away with his tail between his legs. No, the more she bit, spat, and growled, in a most lucid sense, the more he chased after her. What a pet she could make, but not with the innocence that was like a bubble around her. Now, he didn't know what his intentions were for being the one to chase after a girl, what he wanted, only he wouldn't take no for an answer, and he certainly wasn't going to walk away like a puppy who had lost it's bone.

The more she snapped, the more he became interested in her, and it only made her sexy to him when she threw all the insults at him, those green eyes narrowed, cherry lips curled back with distaste. He had an excuse this time to jump out of nowhere and talk with her, though he couldn't have given a shit if he did or not, only maybe for once it would stop her thinking he was after something, which he wasn't. Well, maybe for a taste of her blood, but Paul knew he had had more than one chance to have done that, and it didn't make a difference that she was staying with his dealer. That wasn't the reason he never bothered eating her. It just never came to mind, nor did wanting to fuck her, not like he did before, which didn't mean he stopped wanting a taste of her body, but there really wasn't a full idea at what he wanted...

He wanted some fun. Paul nodded to himself. Yeah, that was it. Plus she was a challenge he thought to himself as he jumped off the railing, making his way through the throng of the crowd towards her. And what fun she was. There would have been no surprise if she gave him a cold or disgusted look the moment her eyes landed on him, but as he looked at her, still inching closer to where she stood, she seemed to be in a world of her own, still looking down at the cotton candy bag and he was sure she was smiling. Smile or no smile, he was ready for her to pounce on him like a rabid dog, though not in a sense he wouldn't have minded. The barking would have been her insults. Either way, he wasn't going to be surprised at her prissy bitch attitude towards him the moment he uttered a word, or if he got a chance to before she said she wasn't interested, blah, blah, blah.

And on cue, as he managed to escape the train of people, more like them moving out the way, as if somewhere inside, unconsciously they sensed danger, her eyes glanced at him. At first she didn't notice him as they moved off him, but a second later, they shot back, a small widening coming. This set off a grin in an instant, small wink aiming straight at her as well. He forgot all about the blonde who was watching him with some sort of disappointment, and a stab of jealously and anger when looking at Boadicea, who turned away from Paul, not walking away, or moving away, but just turning away from him. She waited though, and within two seconds, he was spinning her around to face him, smiling face leaning up close to her own.

''Well, hello, Boadicea.''

All the response he got was a shrinking back and then a sigh, though that faint smile was still plastered on her face. That made him stop for a second.

He then shrugged inwardly. It was better than a cold look, or a harsh comment, which was surprising he didn't get given one. He wasn't complaining though, not in the slightest. A sigh was nothing compared to what she usually gave him. Nicely a fuck off, with a repulsing look was the usual. This was somewhat of treat in one term.

Getting a feel of eyes on his, he moved his gaze off her, instantly seeking out the person, which didn't take long. He was met with a calculating stare, deep, chocolate, curious, eyes meeting his own. After a second, he grinned, before turning his attention back to her. It seemed one of the brats in the store had a close watchful eye on her. He didn't miss the slight protective look the kid wore. Paul's grin widened, and then glancing once more at Alan, he pulled her away from his view, much to her surprise.

''How are you tonight, Boadicea?'' He removed his hand from her shoulder, eyes piercing hers intently.

Getting over the surprise, she smiled, delightful laugh coming, sending a round of surprise through him. He studied her for a second, watching the way she slightly bounced, almost shook with some sort of excitement. Well, she was no longer fretting over the kids that was easy to see. She began to walk, hand touching his arm lightly, pulling him along with her. Her eyes were all bright and shiny, like a Christmas tree all lit up, and he felt her hand tremble on his arm, almost as if she were buzzing with some sort of emotion. Paul remained looking at her as they moved down the boardwalk, unsure of what to make of her unusual behaviour.

''I'm Dandy, Paul. Thank you.'' She tilted her head a little as she looked up at him, eyes dancing, smile coming again. ''How are you?''

''You know me, always smiling.'' He did then, though his eyes were a little puzzled as he continued gazing at her. ''So...you're not sour about the other night then? I guess I'm forgiven?''

''Hmmmm...'' She rubbed her chin, eyes teasing him which began to get him worried. Something was definitely wrong.

''Yes.''

Peering at her closely, nose nearly touching with her own, and much to her discomfort, he searched her face closely, trying to find out what was going on with her. She was definitely acting odd, so odd it almost got him worried in a way. Not worried, puzzled, and now he wanted to know the cause of her sudden change of behaviour, why she wasn't being uptight, and, now, why she was acting like some child who had jut been given a new toy. Okay, so it wasn't puzzling for someone to be happy, but when it came to that someone being Boadicea, Paul knew you just had to question what was going on. Her mind was clean, no hints as to why she was no longer being ''uptight and prissy'' but something was not right about her. Out of nowhere, his hand circled around her arm, pulling her close to him, chest upon chest crushing together, moulding against one anothers. A deep shiver ran through her as she felt how cold he was underneath his jacket, seeping through her own dress then. Whatever was going on with her, she was still aware enough to notice the close proximity between them. Her cheeks flushed a deep scarlet, reaching up towards her ears, and bloodied lips parted, deep, nervous breath being released.

Paul ignored her discomfort, more like he didn't notice it, for he was too busy staring at her. With her, she was probably thinking he was doing it to get close, but that wasn't even swimming in his head right at that moment. After some seconds, puzzlement faded, surprise coming into his eyes, and confusion as he cocked his head somewhat, gazing at her. ''You been on something? Drugs?''

This snapped her back a little, as a crinkle of the lip came, repulse filling her green, no longer sparkling, eyes. ''Of course not!'' Surprise and offense laced her voice.

He kept a firm hold on her, crushing her closer to him, so her breasts smashed up against his rock hard, cold, chest. More cold seeped through his shirt, going straight through her again. ''Nah, you've been on something all right. Your eyes are all wide and your pupils are diluted.'' He rubbed his palm against his forehead, still looking at her. ''You been on the weed or something?''

''Paul...'' She grumbled something, moving away from his chest, and to stop her from becoming even redder. ''You know I hate drugs. I would never take drugs. It's disgusting.''

Instead of saying some sort of joke, or being shocked, which he usually would have, he shook his head, not letting it go. ''Well, your eyes are saying you've been on drugs.''

A sigh formed from her, fingers rubbing across her brow. ''Well, my eyes are lying.'' She muttered something, and then looked up at him. ''They lie a lot''

This time he cracked a smile.

This seemed to stop her as well, as she laughed a little with him. ''Can you take me home?''

''Oh...'' Forgetting about the 'drugs' he smiled back more. ''You're letting me this time?''

''Uh- huh''

Paul paused. ''You won't start giving me insults again, will you?'' He looked at her, little teasing grin slipping. ''No falling out?''

She smiled some more, but it still never fully reached her eyes. It was something he thought.

''If you don't be an idiot, then yes. We'll be fine''

''All right then.'' He made a criss cross across his chest. ''I promise too be a good boy''

* * *

''Hey''

Boadicea stopped by the door, turning to face him. ''Yes, Paul?''

He grabbed her hand, pulling her swiftly towards him, hands grabbing her shoulders as she began to stumble downwards towards the stairs. In a flash, he pulled her to him, so her feet left an inch off the ground, getting the bottom of her dress to twirl all around her legs. This got her, once again, all embarrassed, as she shuffled away from him the moment he set her down, hands still holding her. He certainly seemed to like being close to her, though she didn't feel the same way.

Paul smiled as usual, cocking his head. ''Stay out for a bit.'' He stopped her when she opened her mouth. ''Just out here'' Then he did something he never usually did; he begged. ''Please?''

A contemplating look came, all frowns and pursed lips, which got him laughing quietly, eyes setting to amused. She turned away then, and his laughter ceased when she turned the key in the lock, shutting the door straight behind her as soon as she entered the house, leaving him standing there. Well, she could have invited him in, but then he didn't need her permission. He had an invite whenever, and the moment he started to visit Christine for his stash, he always helped himself into the house. But Paul didn't bother following in after her. Lighting up a joint, he looked around the small patch of garden, pausing as his eyes landed on a small rockery that hadn't been there on his last visit. Orange and other various bright flowers covered the inside of the whole thing, then a small colourful windmill peaking amongst the plants, then other things like plastic bugs placed amongst the rocks, as well as small little elf figures stuck firmly in the soil. Not that Christine wasn't much of a gardening person, because there would be times she planted stuff, but it was easy to see who did the little piece of art. It seemed it was another thing he had learned about Boadicea, though probably he had read it in her mind the last time he scooped up everything, but remembering every little thing wasn't easy. Still gazing at her little garden patch, the door suddenly opened, causing him to turn, finding her shaking two cans of Dr pepper in her hands. He wanted her to snap one open as she continued shaking them at him, offering him one.

Grinning, he moved towards her. ''Thought you were going to leave me out here''

''Would I be that mean?'' The can was dumped into his lap as he sat down beside her on the steps, beginning to drum his fingers on his knee. A habit he hadn't been able to break.

Fiddling with the button on her dress, she pouted slightly, then turned to look at him. ''Have you been doing anything interesting tonight?''

Well, I met up with some chickies, and killed a pretty, naive, girl like yourself, laughing manically as I did it. Oh, and then I ripped out her heart, cut off her head, and buried her ten feet in the ground. She ain't so pretty now.

Paul smiled. ''Nope.'' Snapping open the can, he took a swig before meeting her gaze. ''What about you?''

''You know, I said I'd never go to the boardwalk. I hate it, but I've been there nearly every night.'' A small shake of the head was given. ''Not much at all really. Helping Christine around the kitchen...Watched some television, which was absolute rubbish, and then found myself at the boardwalk.''

''Wow.'' Paul feigned shock. ''What fun''

''Huh'' Putting her drink down, she turned to look at him. ''I'm actually looking for work.''

''That's even less fun''

She smiled a little. ''I need to do something. I'm bored out of my mind. I was thinking of going home...I have a job at home, frie...actually I don't.

A frown came. ''Huh?''

''Nothing'' She folded her hands in her lap. ''I do spend a few hours every few days at the centre, but that's not enough for me. I also need a job that pays.''

He laughed. ''Don't you have your parents? Aren't they sort of rich?''

''No.'' She shook her head. ''I don't want to take money off them, and they're not willing to give it to me, which I think is fair. If I do have money off them, it's paid back, unless it's birthdays or something''

''Oh''

She shrugged a little and then looked at him. ''I only noticed the other night your hair has gone. It's all short...Where did it go?''

Paul shrugged. ''I don't know. I woke up and it was gone''

She laughed a little, putting on a serious expression. ''You best find that hair''

He laughed back. ''It'll find me''

''I prefer you with long hair.'' She took a sip of her drink. ''That's going to take years to get it back long''

''No, my hair grows quick.'' Stretching his arms over his head, he stood up.''Well-

She cut him off. ''You're going now?''

He smiled down at her. Why? Did you want me to stay?''

''I didn't say that.''

He laughed again. ''I'm going to say hello to Christine and raid her fridge. I'm starved, and I need her to hook me up''

''Oh, right'' She stood as well. ''Well, I'm kinda hungry as well.''

''Great. You can make me something to eat.''

''Ha!'' She gave him a look, eyes bright. ''Make your own damn food''

* * *

It was still the same for him. The bright lights of the boardwalk, the carnival music that never ended, and then the carousel that played its endless tune. Nothing had really changed, only the small little things they had added to there town, not something you'd really notice. Faces all seemed the same, though they weren't, but still all seemed similar to ones who had occupied Santa Carla decades back. Still blondies with big boobs, flashing their toned bodies for all to see. Still full of teens, drunks, gangs, fights, and violence. That was no surprise.

The music was different, yet still held that fair ground music that he once hated, and it was still a thriving place, all the tourists moving around like scurrying ants. Dinner was still easy to find, the violence hadn't changed, and it now held its name for murder capital of the world. He laughed at that. Oh, he laughed at the Lost Boys.

They were still roaming Santa Carla after those long years, and he was to say surprised they were still there. After months, it became boring, the people became boring, the food tasted bland, and then it was time to set off and try something new on the menu, but he knew he'd find his way back at one point. They probably knew it too. As he waited there in the darkness of the alley, he wondered if they were aware of his presence yet, but having such a dumb, baboon of a leader, who showed himself off with power, control, and looks, well, not much got through to his head but just that, so he wouldn't have been at all surprised if they hadn't. It was Paul he hated, Paul he wanted to crush down to the ground, and rip out his heart. He hated that bastard with a burning passion, even after twenty long years, he fucking hated him.

But he wasn't dumb. Oh no, the poodle was missing a wire somewhere, he knew that, but there was a brain there, and he was smart and lethal when using it. Instead of even bothering to make a big appearance, the first place he had gone to was Christine's, finding she was indeed still occupied in her house after so long. Only to find she had a guest and a pretty sweet one at that. As well as the others, Christine was unaware he was in Santa Carla, so he tip toed around, making himself like wisps of smoke. Watching the house from the shadows, thinking on what to do next, she saw him through the window of her bedroom. He strayed deep in the garden then, lurking within the trees, watching her as she moved outside, chocolate brown hair in thick curls, and red lips good enough to taste. But he never acted upon the hunger, the mouth watering scent she carried. As smelt others on her, him on her, and this turned a smile up on his face as he stared at her innocent, childlike, face. Of course Paul would go for someone like her. Usually it was the girls with the dark hair and pretty eyes, but he did laugh when looking into her pretty little head. It was amusing. He had to laugh to find he had been rejected by his food.

The best way to get to Paul was to steal his own little obsession off him.

* * *

I hope this chapter was a better improvement than the last, and more interesting. Within the next few chapters, if I can't get things speeding along, most of all, interesting, then I might give up on this story, as I'm dragging it on too much, and it's get rather boring now.

Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter, and I hope you all enjoyed this one. :DD


	11. Kaitlin Morse

Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter, and a special thanks to Anna. :DDD

* * *

Kaitlin Morse was fresh in Santa Carla, a young youth with a pretty face, dirty golden locks, and a natural, wide, smile plastered wherever she went. Every so often a specific girl would arrive in Santa Carla like this one, an innocent of beauty and everything else, and it was the ones like her that were whisked away in a flash, no trace of them ever being left behind. Most of the time it was stupidity on their behalf, them walking right into danger when the signs were all there, hitting them in the face. A handsome biker with warm eyes and a bright smile that matched hers would offer one of these girls a ride, and trusting and naive, they would follow without any questions asked, merely thinking it was just another teenager wanting to make a friend and have fun, when really it was a creature of the night out on the hunt for food, and one of these pretty girls had caught their predatory eyes. These girls like Kaitlin Morse were always the ones to go first, never lasting more than a night before their lives were snatched away by monster with glowing eyes and sharp gnashing teeth. If they were ever found, it was nothing but a severed body part, or just bones left on a fire.

They'd offer her a tour, ask if she wanted to grab a bite to eat, or just plain out and ask did they want to go for a ride down the beach, where there, they'd meet their doom. Kaitlin Morse was no different to all the others girls who had become corpses in the ground, food for the vampires, or taken by some sleaze bag who used them for prostitution, or just kept them for their own pleasures, and then eventually got bored of them and murdered them. Either one, she was eventually going to catch the eyes of someone or something. The innocents were always the ones to go first, as they were the tastiest, the most fun to torment before their killer closed in on them.

That, and they were easy to trust and lure away from viewing eyes.

And as always, Kaitlin Morse was going to be a victim of Santa Carla, or rather its occupants. She was only seventeen, but no monsters had any mercy or spared any compassion for one so young as herself. They would only look at her as food, nothing more and nothing less. Too young to be in a place alone, but many runaways ventured to Santa Carla, getting lost amongst the tourists, gangs, and the people who came there just to party from towns not far away. It was easy to become lost in a place that was so thriving with faces that all looked the same. If you wanted to disappear, it was done. You either lost yourself in the cruelty of the town, the drugs, the sex, the violence, or you became a face on the missing board poster, or just another person lost but never looked for.

With her pretty little yellow dress on, and her red cowboy boots, then the enormous backpack on her back, she moved down the boardwalk, becoming fascinated with anything her eyes landed on. Like a child all excited, she examined things from the little stalls, fingers greedily moving over trinkets, handmade scarves, hats, and shawls, then the beaded necklaces, the rings, and bracelets. Though she had no money, it still brought her a childlike delight to look at, as opposed to other who would move away and wallow in things that they couldn't afford. She found herself stopping at the end stall, where nobody was crowded around. It was, again, handmade plates, but designed with flowers, stars, and even words. This still interested her, as she looked down at them, getting the woman selling them to bring hope in her eyes.

''You want to buy one?''

Kaitlin looked up from the one plate she had been observing. ''Oh'' She bit her lip, looking somewhat embarrassed. ''Errr, maybe another time.'' She smiled, but her cheeks became red.

The hope left the woman's eyes, but she was still smiling as her, even though it had slipped a little. It wasn't hard to see she was a runaway with the big bag on her back, or the interest and fascination she was showing with everything her chocolate brown eyes landed on. Whether it was out of guilt or just feeling sorry for her, she took the one she had been observing from off the table, instantly setting to wrapping it in silver tissue paper. And innocent, pretty, little Kaitlin watched her in silence, cheeks still flushed, and eyes still embarrassed, but that smile was still there, the wonder and awe with it. She soon began to look at her more closely, from her thick, black, curly hair, and to her kind, warm, brown eyes, then her mocha, beautiful, skin. Kaitlin also like watching people, guessing where they were from, what they liked to do, and who they generally were.

She was fascinated in most things.

After some minutes, the woman looked up, plate now covered neatly with the tissue paper, and then handed it towards her. ''You may have it''. She smiled. ''No charge''

Instantly, her face lit up, and her hand came out, but she never took it off her. It was almost as if she were afraid, too. Much to the woman's surprise, she withdrew her hand, not taking it as well. ''I can't''

''Please, I insist.'' The woman kept her hand outstretched.

After some hesitation, she gingerly took it off her, eyes all bright, and smile growing even wider. ''Thank you''

She then spent near enough an hour talking with her, but avoiding anything to do with why she had come to Santa Carla, and anything else that would turn its way to do with her life back home. Kaitlin listened as Janine, after learning her name, talked on about how she liked making other things such as jackets, cardigans, and mittens, then leading to other things like books, music, famous poets, and then the topic Kaitlin wanted to hear; Santa Carla. And she listened on with high interest, hanging onto every word she said, eyes becoming more excited and fascinated as she told her about the concerts they held, the parties at the beach, and then other things to do with ghost tours, the museum, and then other historical places that might interest her. And they did. Her face grew more thrilled, and agitated to do all the things Janine was talking of. She wanted try out surfing, sit with people around a fire and listen to music, go on the rides, try out the ghost tour, but most of all, she wanted to make friends. And as they spoke back and forth to each other, another watched her with keen interest from over by the benches, hiding amongst the strangers they sat with.

* * *

With painted up faces, tops removed, and drinks in hands, they jumped from bench to bench, all singing loudly, which also resulted in attracting the attention of all on the boardwalk. The girls sat together, smoking cigarettes and glancing at them every few seconds, shaking their head when they shouted for them to join in. It was wild, it was loud, but as Kaitlin watched them, she thought it was amazing. She wanted to go over to them, to talk, to laugh as they sang another song, but nerves prevented her from doing anything. She stood by the popcorn stand, watching them with a mild curiosity, and a longing to make a friend or two. Much to her disappointment they moved on, but it didn't take long for her to find her fascination in something else; another group of teens who had taken over the benches the hooligans hadn't long been on, only these were all just guys, no females present. Though they weren't singing and drinking, she watched as they passed a joint around themselves, then began to mess each other's hair up with silly string. A smile came, delightful laughter in her eyes, and just as she went to move towards them, she felt someone come up from behind her, the smell of smoke invading her nostrils not a second later

''Idiots, aren't they?'' It was a male, and she caught onto the amusement in his voice.

Sparing the boys one last glance, she turned, meeting bright cobalt eyes. ''Yes, I guess''

The boy smiled slightly, brushing his black fringe away from his eyes, before turning his eyes to her. Something didn't seem right, and she felt it, but being how she was, it was pushed away. She smiled back at him, before turning back around, watching everybody and everything with bright and longing eyes.

''New here, huh?''

This made her turn around again.

He smiled at her, eyes inviting and warm. ''Just got here?''

Kaitlin nodded. ''Yes'' She paused for a second, watching him. ''You live here?''

''Not exactly''

She watched him closely as he moved around her, stopping just an inch in front of her. ''I'm Zeke''

A pale hand was pushed out towards her and giving it a look, almost as if it were an animal ready to bite, she took it, cold meeting warm. ''Kaitlin''

''Kaitlin'' he repeated, touching her hand a little too long. He smiled wider at her. ''Say, Kaitlin, have you found anywhere to stay?''

Shaking her head, she withdrew her hand from his, getting a chill up her spine from the unnatural coldness too his skin. ''Nope, I'll find somewhere''

''The beach?'' He smiled to her puzzled look. ''You're a runaway, right? And I suppose you have no money?''

''I do'' If her cheeks hadn't turned a beetroot red, the lie would have ran smoothly.

All he did was laugh, like bells tinkling together, sending a warm feeling through her. She liked his laugh she realised, smiling as she listened. And a delightful warm pleasure sank through her at the feeling she might just make a friend. Other than his laugh she liked him already, trusted him completely, and was hoping he would want to befriend her too. His laughter stopped suddenly, all amusement vanishing, a serious look overtaking. And out of nowhere her mood changed as well, smile slipping as she shrank back from close her got too her. ''Kaitlin, you want to come hang with me?''

''Oh'' The smile came back, the delight sweeping through her eyes. ''Yes!''

''Great.'' He smiled back, shaking his fringe away from his eyes. ''You can drop your stuff off at mine''

''Yours?''

He nodded. ''Yeah, well, not mine, but where I'm staying''

''Okay''

''Well, Kaitlin, welcome to Santa Carla''

* * *

The only thing with precious, innocent, Kaitlin was that she took a different path to all the others like her.

As he took her backpack from her, hand grabbing hers, fingers entwining together, he moved towards the direction of the alleyway, slipping into the shadows, where she followed with him willingly, no questions being asked.

Kaitlin Morse wasn't murdered, or sold to some sleaze bag...

And as she felt something ripping into her neck, his hand closed in around her mouth, stopping her cried screams of pain and fear. She felt the warmth trickle down her shoulder, and he ripped into her neck again, biting into the flesh repeatedly with such ferocity and brutality, she started to choke on her own blood, drowning out the cries and screams of help she was trying to give. There was no use. He was killing her, she was going to die, and there was nobody to save her.

But as she slippped away, slacking against him, he withdrew from her, face coated in blood, dripping thickly from his lips.

No, Kaitlin Morse wasn't murdered at all. Unlike the other vampires, this one hadn't wanted her for a meal, but had only chosen her for the same reason he had with the one before her, and the one before that.

The use to lure the people he wanted in.

* * *

I know this is short, but I kinda wanted to keep this chapter that way to get things rolling a bit better. Anyway, I hope you liked it. And just too wrap something up (Just in case you're confused) Zeke is the stranger from the last chapter :D


	12. Strange

Marko stared with a baffled look as Paul stood by the mirror, masking a full look of concentration upon his face as he attempted to do his hair with a big fuck off comb, one that would have been just right for Rapunzal, styling mousse, and a thick brush. ''Why do you do that?''

''Don't know.'' Paul shrugged, moving the comb upwards into his hair, creating it to look like he had been dragged through a hedge backwards. ''I think that's the only thing I miss about being human. Well, we can see ourselves in a mirror if we're invited into someones house, but shit, that's only some of the time.''

''You love yourself too much.'' Marko said with an amused grin, before shifting his eyes back to the comic he had been skimming through.

A grin slapped its way onto Paul's face. ''Someone's got to. And, anyway, I'm the fucking bomb.''

''The bomb.'' Marko repeated back with a growing grin. ''But it'll be our little secret that you only bedded so many girls because you used mind control on them.''

This caused a grubby middle finger to be raised, before hands went back to what they were doing. ''You're really an annoying midget.'' He laughed when Marko did. ''Go fuck tinkerbell. Besides, that would be great to try out, but I'm pretty sure that would be rape.''

''They wouldn't care at the time''

''Yeah, well, that shit isn't for me.''

There was a pause for a second. ''So, tell me...''

Paul stopped when Marko trailed off. ''You know, you're kind of being annoying tonight.''

''Makes a change of it not being you.'' The comic was discarded, a second later, Marko standing behind him. ''You meeting that girl?''

''So, what if I am?''

''Mind if I share?''

''You've got more of a chance of being raped in the ear. And it'll be me doing the raping if you think you're getting some.''

All the given response was a soft laughter from Marko, before he slinked his way to the other side of the cave. ''You go and have fun with your virgin. I think I'll go and see that cute red head on the boardwalk. She looks fun to play with, and can't stop shaking those no tits of hers at me whenever I see her around.''

''But you seem to look.'' Paul noted, with a shit eating grin.

''I'll sink my fangs into those thighs of hers for sure.''

''No poking her?.'' A brow was raised.

''I prefer getting my pleasure from other things.''

''You really are a mental case.'' Paul shook his head. ''When was the last time you got laid, or in general, got a hard on?''

* * *

To say that Boadicea remembered Elisa Simms would have been a lie. In fact, even when Christine told her that they used to play together when they were kids, it brought back no memories. Not even when she brought up the one topic of how they use to play in the paddling pool together, and paint up their dollies in her makeup brought nothing to mind. Because, as far as Boadicea knew of, she never had any friends when she stayed in Santa Carla. It was walks in the park with her grand parents, not that she remembered them, but pictures were enough, and cooking, walking, and day trips out with Christine. No recollections of having and playing with friends came to mind. But it so happened, as the two sat at the table for a very late night lunch, going on nine, Christine encouraged Boadicea to go out with Elisa, which started a whole round of frowns, confusion, and then finally words, who? Elisa Simms was a year younger than Boadicea, but was completely opposite her in personality, looks, and manners. Unlike being uptight, living by rules, and having an untrusting and defensive side, Elisa was some what of a wild teenager. Most weekends were spent up in San Fransico, with her friends who sucked up to every word and thing she did, or if it was staying in Santa Carla, it was the beach to get drunk and party, and the boardwalk to meet hot toned guys with cash. Her mother, not far off from Christine's age, owned the small chimes and candles store in town, which sold everything from flowers, books, to birth stones, candles, and all things that were, to Boadicea, a load of rubbish when recommended for stress, and to relax. Her father was unknown, some guy she had met during her early years at college, but Christine and Elisa's mother had been somewhat of firm friends since their late teens.

For why Christine had never brought it up before on her visits was a puzzlement, but she was in no interest to bother asking. All she knew was, as Christine pressed on to get her out socialising with girls close to her age, brought nothing but a more of a shrink away than a lean forward.

''I'll be seeing Samantha on Friday.'' The spoon was absently swirrled around the china cup, as Christine's eyes remained on Boadicea's form. ''You must remember her at least?''

Boadicea remained silent, the only movement was her hand going to the spoon as she scooped up some yucky food that wasn't the least bit appealing.

''Elisa remembers you, although the last time you were together was when she was ten, some time ago, but they have all the pictures of you two.'' A little bit of urgency and frustration came into her voice, rare for Christine. ''She seems quite excited to see you again.''

A nod was given, neither un interested, but not interested either. This caused Christine to pause in what she was doing. ''Honestly, girl, you can't be cooped up in here all summer.''

''I'm looking for a job actually.'' A small flicker of relief became present in her eyes to hear Boadicea finally talk.

''Have you found anything yet?''

''No''

It became silent then, neither saying anything, not that Boadicea did in the first place. The chairs were pushed back, the meeting of china coming together as plates were piled on top of each other, and then put on the side ready to be cleaned up. The silence didn't last long.

''Will you be seeing Paul again?''

Boadicea lightly paused, and the reaction instantly came. A red of the cheeks, and a small glitter of the eyes. Hope and a smile lurking. ''I don't know''

''I thought you hated him?''

''I...I...do!'' It was somewhat of a shout, but not convincing to both. Her ears became red then.

''I see.'' Christine turned away, a small smirk flickering, as she then began to slip the plates into the soapy water. ''He'll be by in a few hours''

''Really!'' The excitement wasn't hid well. ''How do you know?''

''Oh, I suppose he will. He always come here on a Wednesday, but then does have the habit to turn up on different times too.'' She went quiet then and Boadicea frowned slightly at her shrug and un interest.

''Do you mind if I'm excused?''

She met her gaze then. ''Something planned?''

''No, I'm just hot in these jeans. I'm think I'm going to get changed into a dress.''

''Oh.'' A quizzical look came. ''Are you planning on seeing someone?''

Boadicea look away for a second. ''Not at all. I'd feel more comfortable that's all''

''No man coming here I don't know about?''

Christine couldn't hide the smile then, and if Boadicea got any more redder, she would have looked like a tomato.

''No'' It was a scurrying out of the kitchen then.

* * *

And just as Paul was ready to walk out the cave, Marko called him back. ''You're going out like that?''

Paul glanced at him, eyes then studying himself for a second, before they shifted back to meet his. ''Yeah.'' A frown instantly came when Marko shrugged and turned away. ''What?''

''And you're going to see sweet little miss Virgin?''

Marko continued to play the games, but Paul wasn't in the mood like he would have usually been. The frown turned into somewhat of an impatient and annoyed glare, and unconciously, the small flicker of amber came into his eyes. His feet were twitching to move, but Marko had him completely glued in his tracks. ''What's the fucking problem?''

''Oh, nothing.'' Marko remained sitting by the fountain, fingers trailing through the birds feathers, getting Paul to glare just a little more. ''I wonder what she'll say when she see's your hair''

''What about my fucking hair.''

''How it's mysteriously and magically grown into full length since you last saw her, which was when? No more than a week ago. I'd question it if it were me.''

And slowly, the glare left, and it was a huff, a whole round of curses, and Paul, then, storming towards the one draw full of his crap, where he then got a big pair of brown scissors and proceeded to chop it all off. ''Fucking great.''

''Maybe you shouldn't have bothered with the cutting hair, and then letting her see, just to wonder if she'd prefer it, or if it would impress her. It would have saved you time now.''

''Shut up.'' It was a snarl, and Marko's lips twitched.

''You really are in a sticky mess. Kill her and be done with it.'' Paul's eyes changed then, but he didn't bother to say anything as Marko carried on. ''She obviously has no interest in you, or your pointless charms, and looks, as you so put it. It's a waste of time trying to get a virgins attention when you probably wouldn't get a fuck from her until she was at least thirty anyway. You're pretty much screwed then. Not all girls will fall to your charms, Paul, and clearly this girl is the most example of that.

And in a second, hair now mostly cut, the scissors were thrown full speed towards where Marko sat, only for his hands to come out and catch them. And Paul had now completely transformed into monster, red beady eyes trained on Marko's laughing ones. The big grin was flashed, mocking, playing, and he moved, but he wasn't as quick as Marko was, nor as experienced. Before he knew it, he was on the floor, Marko already a good distance away from him. But he wasn't going to back down from his games, only a growing anger coming when he taunted him with looks and words.

''That lovely flower, isn't your girl though, is she?'' Marko laughed ghostly, before moving around the cave. ''Go back to the blondie's.''

It went on for a few minutes, the games continuing, Paul going into a full rage when he was put on the floor two more times, until his hand came out when Marko brushed past him, just catching the top of his jacket. And he was then held by the jacket by two hands, a snarling Paul close to his face. But it did nothing but get a growing amusement out of him, even when he thrown into the chest that was used for candles and old, dusty, ornaments held on top.

''What a way to treat your brother''

''Piss off, Marko''

''Come on, I was only joking with you. Well, only about the...'' He paused for a second, taking the time to dust himself down. ''Be honest, Paul, you have more of a chance of getting screwed by a duck than her. You're wasting your time on someone who obviously thinks your nothing but a slimebag. Which you are of course.''

And Marko laughed again when Paul charged, but it ceased when he was whacked hard around the head seconds later. ''Do that again and I'll cut out your tongue and shove it so far up your nose, you'll feel it in your brain.''

Though Marko was still playing, unlike a pissed off Paul, the hint of warning was true in his words, but Paul paid them no mind. And the amusement completely vanished when Paul did it again, getting Marko to whack him so hard in the chest he went flying backwards through the air, crash landing straight into the two wooden chairs a top of each other, obliviating them into pieces all over the ground.

''Fucking fairy.'' Fangs were bared, snarls coming, and Paul went for him again.

''That's enough''

David happened to be right on time to stop the fight that would cause the cave to look like it had been bombed. Marko was instantly all grins and shrugs, slinking his way over to the bed, and Paul changed back, grabbbing the scissors, and storming out of the cave, banging straight into Dwayne who stood silently by the entrance, before he took to the sky, in one still foul mood.

''You shouldn't annoy him like that''

''That girl is a waste of time-

''Which is nothing to do with you.'' David looked away from Marko's gaze. ''Let Paul learn his own way''

''Paul's way at the end of it, might not come out good. We all know what happened last time.''

Nothing was said to Marko's last comment.

* * *

Kaitlin felt sick, strange, but most of all scared. Everything had rushed by, an endless mad spinning, right up until she had blacked out. He had lead her down alleys, streets, past trees, the odd house now and then, until they were leaving civilisation. She remembered tripping a lot, the darkness growing, until his cold, strong, hand took hers. It was a building then, old, worn down, rotting, and damp, and when it seemed forever of them twisting and turning corners inside, they finally came to a room. The walls were running with water, the only source of light was a trash can burning within, but there was a bed, clean, tidy, and it was warm. The bags were thrown to the floor, and she was pushed lightly down onto the couch that filled up the rest of the empty space. She didn't feel worried being with a stranger, nor was she scared. She felt warm, comforted, and safe, and it was nothing but gratitude and smiles.

And he talked, she talked, for hours so it seemed, until then it was a drink being made up just as she found herelf thirsty. Wine. Not something she was particularly fond of but it was a drink nonetheless.

''To Santa Carla, Kate.''

A smile lit up all around and she took the glass from his hands, pausing for a second as his fingers brushed up her own. ''Santa Carla''

That's when the spinning began, a sweeping of some sort of high, and before she knew it, he was kissing her, hand cupping her face, a meeting of tongue and brutality, and she suddenly wanted him. She felt drunk, and he teased her lightly when he pulled away from her. She laughed like tinkling bells, only for him to kiss her again, making it better than the first. And there came no words as they moved towards the bed, the silk sheets slipping as he pushed her down onto it. It was nothing then. But through the pleasure, she began to feel sick, dizzy, hot, and it was blackness at the end of it all.

Only she felt strange now, excited in an unknown way, fresh, but something was making her on edge. Something felt strange. There was no light in the room that time around but she saw everything with perfect clarity, sending a whole round of panic. Her throat was like a ball of barbed wire was down it, her mouth pooled with saliva, and edgy and weirded out, she brushed her hair away from her face, looking next to her for a second to find him still asleep amongst the sheets, the one view of his body being his pale, but toned, chest. A bite of the lip was given and just as she went to shake him, her hand touched something wet. That's when the widen of the eyes came as she saw all of the blood upon the bed, getting her to swiftly climb out of it, only to quietly shriek when her foot came into contact with something. More blood, everywhere, and her heart began to bang violently into her chest, a growing sickness and fear when she saw the torn and mutilated body upon the floor, unrecognisable to know who the person had been.

Without knowing what she was doing, she started to make her way out of the room, fear pricking every inch of her, heart thundering so loud she could hear it herself, getting her to panick more. Why was there blood? Did he kill someone? Of course he did. Tears came, fright building higher, and just as she went to break run, she was pulled back, earning a shriek until a hand came over her mouth.

''Shhhh.''

His voice was calm, soothing, but she still struggled, only getting him to lock his arm around her throat in a choking way. ''Where are you going?''

He removed his hand from her mouth. ''What's going on?''

''I don't know. What's going on?''

''That...you killed someone''

''You helped''

It was sobs then, trembles, and tears. ''No, I never.''

''Oh, you did.''

He turned her to face him, and it was screams, violent, frightened screams upon seeing his face. ''You can't leave, Kaitlin. You're mine now''

''Oh my god. Someone help me.''

He laughed, a loud laugh. ''Nobody can hear you. There's nowhere to run if you try''


	13. A helping hand

So I know it has been awhile since I have last updated this story, but things have been a little hectic for me lately and when having free time on my hands, I just couldn't come up with anything to write, that and I am worrying about my writing skills lately, but here is the next chapter.

Anywho, thanks for all the feedback on the last chapter and I forgot to thank Anna for the idea that she suggested to me from my one shot, Elle, which I have used in this story.

* * *

Paul usually never got bored.

There was always something that entertained him, but that night nothing seemed appealing. He skipped the invitation to spend the night partying with girls, and he didn't even bother to take the offer of sex and blood from his pet. What he really wanted to do was see Boadicea. It was stupid really. David was noticing his growing fascination with her, and although Dwayne never said anything on the matter, Paul noticed the growing awareness and security in his eyes. He never agreed on Paul's choice of companions, whether they were male or female, but Boadicea just seemed to becoming a repeat of the last human he got tangled into. Marko didn't really care as he was always having too much fun pissing Paul off by threatening to have a taste of his little property. Marko knew he wasn't going to share this one, but he hadn't caught on that it was a lot more serious than her playing a game of hard to get with Paul. And it was a good thing Max was still ignorant of the subject as well. It would only take a second for him to dive into Paul's mind and see what was somewhat bothering David and Dwayne, but he never did bother, because Paul never hid things. He was open about everything and anything, and it was always the same thoughts playing in his head, something that Max didn't particularly approve of, so he had long ago shied away from going into his son's head. Paul was lucky really. If Max knew what was going on, Paul knew he would prevent him from seeing Boadicea in a second, so it wouldn't lead any further between them than it already was.

He had to admit it, he was already in too deep of mud, but he was trapped. He didn't want to let her go. Just picturing her warmth flesh against his sent a twitch in his groin and the sweet scent of her natural smell made him thirsty. He wanted her body, mind, and her blood. Paul had to have her.

* * *

The beach was always a fascinating place to be. Boadicea liked the feel of the sand between her toes and the soothing sound of the waves gently forming together, bringing up foamy bubbles not one foot away from where she lay. The water shimmered like a thousand diamonds when it choose to have a calm moment and the moon was exceptionally big that night, a glowing orange, almost as if she could have jumped up and touched it with her very hand. The pine trees behind her brought a dancing breeze that swirled all the ends of her locks behind her shoulders, bringing with it, a round of shivers up her bear arms. There was no place better in Santa Carla than sitting on the beach.

* * *

It didn't take Paul long to find her. It never did. There was only one place she ever really went. Why she chose it all the time puzzled him exceedingly. It wasn't exactly the safest place for her to be alone, and so late into the night as well. Not that he worried too much on some great big fat bastard preying on her (Though that did cause a rouse of concern) but it was his kind that she was a big juicy steak to, in which that made him wary.

Naïve, stupid, girl he thought to himself with a small twist of annoyance on his face. Not that he didn't care for her, because he did, but he was more pissed off that someone else might get their greasy paws on her, than actually being more concerned for her welfare. A strike of jealousy formed at the thought of a set of fangs lodged into her neck that wasn't his own! Whether he liked her or not, the monster would never go away. He wasn't sure if he wanted her blood, more than he actually wanted her. Right then, it seemed to be a tie.

She didn't even hear him come up behind her, and Paul took it as the opportunity to watch her for some moments. Her creamy neck became exposed when the breeze blew her hair to the side, and he watched the pulse jump underneath her skin. His eyes moved around. A taste couldn't hurt. Nobody would see. He could use his mojo on her after and she would be none the wiser. His eyes travelled to her face. Though her eyes were closed, he detected the faintest smile gracing her lips. He knelt down behind her then, eyes already glowing, fangs out, and face not so handsome as it usually was. Just a taste, a small taste of her sweet, pure, divine, blood. His mouth pooled with saliva.

And just as he went to take that bite, she spoke.

''Better luck next time scaring me, Paul.'' In a flash he pulled away, features changing. Did she see? No, he wasn't certain she didn't.

Composing himself, he then spoke. ''Not scary, babe?''

''Try harder.' There was laughter to her voice.

Oh, he could try harder alright. That smile would have soon faded if she had only looked just seconds ago. She rolled off her back then, onto her stomach instead. They met eyes and she cocked an eyebrow. Paul grinned in return, to which she laughed.

''I knew you'd come'' Her tone was serious now.

''Is that why you came here?'' He teased with that usual cocky smile. ''So we can have some...alone time.'' He waggled his eyebrows at her.

And instead of her giving her usual scoff or eye roll, she smiled. ''Maybe.''

He really couldn't make her out. Moving her eyes off his, she proceeded to stand, taking the time to dust all the sand off herself and slip her sandals back on. They looked back at each other then, but nothing was said. Paul didn't even crack some joke, and she didn't even so much as blush. The only thing that made it to her ears was the pines trees blowing, the waves snarling, and the faint traces of laughter coming from up the boardwalk.

'So...' A small nervous laugh escaped then and she coughed slightly. Now Paul grinned and in one quick stride he came to a stand in front of her, arms forming around her cool, bare flesh, nose burying into her hair. His head span as her scent whiffed up his nose. Her head came to his chest then, and she sighed quietly.

They stood like that for some moments, until she looked up at him, just as he looked down at her, faces inching closer together. Her breath fanned in his face and he inhaled, readily, greedily, to claim her lips. But before he knew it she pushed him away, and ran off with a wild laugh.

Blinking in surprise a grin instantly set itself into place. He took chase then. It really didn't take long to catch her. Before they knew it they were oth lying in the sand, him on top of her, hands moving her hair from away her face. Her cheeks flushed from the exercise, a thin sheen of sweat appeared across her head, and as her fingers moved across his chest, he listened to her heartbeat. Her lips were more red than before, juicy with blood, and he claimed them then, feeling how soft and plump they were against his.

A small moan came and she kissed him back, but with a fierce passion, an intensity he hadn't come across in years. He wondered where else she was soft. His hand moved underneath her skirt then, stroking up her bare leg. Soft. So soft she was. God he wanted her. He couldn't help himself by roaming his hand further up, and she didn't stop him. If anything she wanted him to touch her more, to kiss her stronger than he was. Because she wanted him too. The silly stoner, the idiot who smiled and laughed and really was pathetic. Who she really did find to be an idiot. Yes, she still wanted him, and he had grown on her over the course of time they had known each other.

The kiss was broken for her need of air and Paul laughed at her sand covered hair, excited, wild, lustful eyes, and pouted lips that he just wanted to kiss again. Temptation was too much.

''Boadicea.''

Her eyes closed. ''Hmmmm?''

''Do you like me?'' He couldn't believe how serious he sounded. He knew she did, but he wanted her to say it.

''No, not at all. One eye cracked open, amusement brimming. ''I just happen to like kissing strange men I dislike.''

''Oooh, sarcasm.'' He joked with his usual smile. They kissed a few more time then, and he paused when she broke away from him again, an inquisitive look coming onto his face.

''Paul?''

He just looked at her.

''Yes, I do. Too much than I ought''

* * *

Pet or no pet, Sasha hated being shut away. She sat on the chair directly facing the window, arms crossed, a miserable, sour, look upon her face. Sometimes she just really did hate Paul. Though she should have been happy that he had rejected her that night, because the sex, though it was the best she had, was always brutual, leaving her to be in pain for days at a time, she would have rather had it, than being sat bored where she was, completely alone. In fact he hadn't bothered with her at all for near enough two weeks. He still came around to see her, to make sure his little pet was keeping clean, well, and unhungry, but that's all it was. Oh, but it was okay for him to fuck girls every night but she wasn't allowed company in the opposite sex when she was by herself at all, even if not for a good fuck. Her face grew more sour and moody by the second. He just couldn't do that to her. Who did he think he was?

But she never said anything to him because even though she loved Paul dearly and would have done anything for him, he wasn't always his usual joking, stupid, self with her. The last time she had pissed him off she had been left with a not so nice bruise on her cheek and a nasty broken wrist. Though he never did say sorry, in his own way, he tried to make it up to her, because though he didn't care at all on breaking some girls neck or ripping her throat out, hitting women just wasn't something he liked or tolerated. She knew why. His daddy was a drunk ugly fuck who enjoyed using his drugged up, whore of a mummy as a beating bag, as well as Paul himself. He said it was the best thing he ever did when he killed his old man.

Whilst he wasn't there with her, she was able to think freely and curse him as many times as she wanted to. God she was so bored. At least when she was whoring she was able to find something to do. A fuck, a drink, a hit of some strong shit. She missed the needles, and the fuck in the alley with some asshole who would always give her more than she expected, but out there, she could wander off, buy a shit load of cotton candy from the boardwalk, or go the beach. Not that she ever did those things, but she could have done. She wasn't allowed too now.

With a sigh she grabbed the box of cigarettes from the bed, ony to find she had none left. Her face fell then, and slowly, with gritted teeth, she crunched up the box, flinging it across the room with an angered growl. In a second the lamp was thrown against the wall, the old tattered china dolls Paul had stolen for her were pushed off the near enough broken cabinet, screams of violent angered curses spilling from her lips. She hated him.

And without a thought of what he would do if he returned to find her gone, she grabbed her jacket, and left the room, giving him a big mental fuck off.

* * *

When she hit the street she paused for a second, wondering where she could go or what she could do. Anything was better than being stuck in a cold, dank, room. Paul was probably with some blonde slut, getting high or pigging out. He was probably havin fun and she was going too as well. Sasha just knew she had to avoid the boardwalk unless she wanted to take the chance of bumping into Paul or one of the others. She didn't.

''Hey! You looking for a fuck slut?'

She turned then, brows going down when her eyes latched onto two guys walking towards her. ''Get fucked you ugly cunt.''

''Is that any way for a lady to talk?'' The one gave her a look, the other said nothing.

She said nothing either, but merely curled up her lip, stuck up her finger, and turned away.

''Come on, I bet you're gagging for it. A slut like you always wants dick.''

''Unless you want to pay me you fat fucking bastard, piss off''

She felt a sharp pull on her arm then, until she was face to face with the two. ''You're a mouthy bitch, ain't you?''

The other guy moved closer to her. ''It's my birthday. How about one for free?''

''If I'm gonna open my legs for free, I'll get it from somewhere else. Now get your faces out of mine you great big fat turds.''

''Whore!''

Before she registered what happened, she was on the floor, feeling the trickle of blood run down her lip. The fat cunt had hit her. Oh, she couldn't wait for Paul to find out. He'd kill them for sure. Sasha stopped then. She would most likely be joining them when he knew she had gone out, but the want of them to die seemed worth it at the time. She was yanked up off the floor then, and thrown against the wall with such a force, a sharp gasp of pain came. The bitter taste of blood entered her mouth and she gave a dark, dirty look to the two.

''Oh, you'll pay for that you stupid cunt!''

Another hit was given and with an angered snarl she punched the guy back, before attempting to claw off his face with her not so long nails. ''You fucking hit me again you piece of lousy shit...get off me!''

The other guy dragged her back, pushing her more forcefully back into the wall where he was then met with a face full of her saliva. She spat at him again, foul language being thrown at them both. ''You'll die for this dirty, dirty, bastards. Your friends and family will die for this''

''Oh, shut up.'' She did when a fist came into contact with her face. Her eyes watered at the pain and she closed her eyes when she saw his fist swinging back towards her again.

''Now now, guys, do you treat all women like this?''

Sasha stopped at hearing a new voice and she felt the guy get pulled off her, a loud smacking coming. Paul? She thought. No, she realised it wasn't him.

* * *

It was even worse when she saw who it was. ''Well, that's just fucking great. Another bloodsucker. Will Santa Carla be anymore polluted with you vermin?''

''Ouch. I wonder what your master would say if he heard you speak in such a horrible term.''

'Go do one.'' Sasha spat the words.

''I think a thank you is in order.''

''I didn't need your help.''

She watched him give an amused smile. ''Because you were handling yourself so well.''

''They would have got it anyway.''

''They already have'' He answered.

''Well, that's just fucking great'' she repeated again, only with much more anger and bitterness. ''You know how much trouble I'm going to get in because you got involved?''

He gave an uncaring shrug. ''For helping someone's pet?''

''Exactly that. Now piss off. I shouldn't even be talking to you.''

''They were right. You really are such a lady.''

''Ah, you were around from the start.'' She moved close to him, finger prodding him hard in the chest. Now she was being foolish and stupid. She might have gotten away with doing something like that with Paul but this guy she had no clue who he was. Just because she belongerd to another vampire didn't mean others would leaver her alone and give a second thought to ripping off her head. Sure they would have been stupid to have touched her and most knew not too, but she didn't want to push her luck and take the risk.

''You're feisty''

That amusement vanished from his face and in a blur he grabbed a hold of her.

This time she did feel an ounce of fear when he pinned her up against the wall, hand lightly wrapped around her throat. It would only take him a second to kill her, that was it.

''How many times am I going to be pushed against a wall tonight'' she muttered darkly.

''It all depends on how well you behave.''

And then before she knew it, he was dragging her down the street, coming right up to the alley that led to the clearing of the woods. ''You can't take me. Release me now.''

He didn't say anything.

''They'll kill you for this.'' Her voice wobbled with worry and fear. She wanted Paul. ''Let me go''

''I'm counting on that.'' He stopped. ''I'm not letting you go.''

He spoke again. ''I'm Zeke.''

He laughed then.


	14. Temptation

So here is another chapter. Seeing as I've been so behind on this story, I want to try and get a few chapters up quite soon before I lose love for it again.

And Anna - Thank you for the review, I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter. I wasn't too sure on it, and you're a dime for spotting that out with Sasha. It's been so long since I've bothered with Unknown, I can barely remember what characters I created, and I didn't even remember I had already used that name for a character in this story, haha. I will correct that in chapter thirteen. And you mentioning Tess and Sasha (Because I had completely forgot about them) has made me pull them back into the story. Hopefully it won't be confusing this time with the names.

I know this story is lagging a bit and not much is happening, too, so I apologise for that. I hope you readers aren't losing interest in this story. I am trying to get things sped up, but then I end up getting stuck on how to make the story more engrossing and interesting.

Thanks to the rest of you for the reviews.

* * *

Edgar had been giving Alan the watchful eye for most part of the night. He'd give him a glance every second as he moved around the store, placing various comics onto the shelves. And that curl of the lip would come when Alan would still be sitting behind the counter, staring at a sheet with that same look on his face as he had been doing since they first opened up the store. A grumble was given by Edgar at seeing his brother's unmoving frame. Since Boadicea had been around to see them, Alan hadn't been his usual self. He was always quiet, but Edgar noticed an almost sullen look upon his face. It had been there for almost two weeks. He no longer asked Edgar annoying questions when they were curled up in bed, like he usually did. He didn't even bother getting Edgar to turn on the light for him when needing to go to the bathroom either. Alan hadn't really been speaking to his brother at all. Quiet was usually what Edgar liked, but Alan's change of moods were starting to get on his nerves.

For once, Edgar wanted Alan to say something. He just sat there, fingers lightly drumming against the counter, eyes narrowed, face almost miserable looking. It hadn't changed all night. That was usually how Edgar was, not his brother.

''These need to be taken downstairs.''

Alan looked up when the sheet in front of him was covered by three empty big boxes. Edgar stood pressed up against the counter, arms folded, the annoyance starting to show on his face. Without a word said to his brother, Alan grabbed the boxes and moved from behind the counter.

''Alan?''

Edgar watched him turn around and instead of saying what he wanted to say, he merely grumbled a, ''I left the keys at home. You can go and get them in a minute. I don't want to be locked out and have to stay here tonight.'' Edgar wouldn't have actually cared either way.

''Why can't you get them?''

Edgar pursed his lips. ''I'm busy, you're clearly not''

Alan said nothing.

Unable to take it anymore, Edgar snapped. ''What the hell is wrong with you?''

In return he got a confused look, aggritating him even more. ''You've been acting like a moody kid that's lost it's teddy for the past two weeks.''

''I'm fine, Edgar'' Alan replied.

But he wasn't. Alan wasn't going to tell his brother what was wrong, because all he would have got was a look off Edgar that said he was stupid, and then the words, stop being a baby, and other words along the lines of that. What Alan was being miserable about was Boadicea. He worried for her, especially more since he had seen her hanging around with some guy on the boardwalk, a guy that he didn't like the look of one bit. Alan knew who he was, and he knew he was a troublemaker, always getting into fights, and stealing, and doing the same drugs his mom and dad got stoned on. But that wasn't what made Alan so worried. Call it a horrible gut feeling, but something didn't feel right.

* * *

''Oh, I'm sick of this.''

Tess gave a sideways glance to her sister before turning back to the book she was reading. ''You're always sick of everything. Whine whine whine, that's all you do''

Sasha paused halfway on painting her lips. A dark look was given to her sister. ''You're a fine one too talk. I'm tired of hearing you always talk about the boys''

Tess put the book down. ''Well, you can forget about borrowing my dress tonight, you great moody cow''

''I don't want to borrow your tattered, ugly, dress, anyway. It's horrible. It only suits you.''

''Oh shut up.'' Tess pulled hard on her sisters hair, making her smear a thin line of red paint up her cheeks. A gasp came from Sasha and she stood up from the dressing table, turning sharply around and giving her sister a good slap. ''You stupid girl. Look what you did''

''You're the stupid one.'' Tess hit her sister back, which resulted in a fight breaking out.

Too caught in what they were doing, neither sensed the presence by the doorway of the bedroom. Marko watched the two in silence, a great big cheshire cat smile smeared across his face. He didn't bother saying anything or breaking them apart. It was all too amusing for him. But Marko always liked to stand back and watch the fights, always smiling and never saying or doing anything. He was always like it with the boys when they got into fights on the boardwalk, mostly Paul's fault for always starting them. Marko preferred to stray behind, playing the fake act of being innocent and then catching the bastards when he was alone, showing that he wasn't quite a fag and girl as they all thought him to be.

His amusement didn't last long when the Widow Johnson stepped into the room, a not too pleasing look on her face.

''Girls, is this any way to act? And when we have guests too.''

Both instantly broke up and, upon seeing Marko leaning against the door frame, their high pitched girly squeals started up, and then words of compliments being thrown at him in all directions.

''Marko! Tess and me were just talking about you not seconds ago. Weren't we, Tess? I was hoping you were going to stop by. It's just so odious and boring here, well, I just think I might go mad from boredom. You know, I was saying to Tess that it would be good if we all got together again. It just gets so lonely here without anyone stopping by to say hello, as you know, and it's always so good to see you when you do come pay us a visit. You look very well tonight, Marko. Have you fed good?''

''Oh, shut up, Sasha, before you give us all a headache.'' Tess pushed her sister aside, before lightly giving an amused Marko a kiss on the cheek. ''Take me with you, please, darling, Marko. She drives me insane. I want to do something tonight, and seeing as you're free, you can take me somewhere. I can't stand another minute in this house with that retched thing.''

''Who are you calling retched?'' Sasha pushed her sister back. ''Marko would rather take me out than you sister. You always want to do boring things. You don't know how to have fun.''

''No, he wouldn't, and I do too.''

''You so can't.''

''Can too.'' Tess pushed her sister.

''Can not'' Sasha pushed her back. ''Go away, Tess. Nobody wants to hang out with you. You are a bore.''

''Enough.'' The Widow shrieked. ''Stop behaving like children and have some manners''

''She started it.'' Tess said sulkily.

''She did'' Sasha argued, giving her sister a filthy look.

''I don't care who did. Clean yourselves up and go downstairs and say hello to our guests.''

''Oh, is David and Dwayne here?'' Sasha's voice trembled somewhat with excitement.

''No, it's the toothy fairy and Santa Claus'' Tess answered with sarcasm.

''Shut up''

Both fought their way downstairs then, snapping and giving abuse to one another. Without saying anything to Marko, for she was too ashamed of her girls, the Widow followed them down, scolding them on their manners and behaviour. Marko was glad the attention had gone off himself, and he hoped they wouldn't remember of wanting to go out. David and Dwayne was his hope of the girls being distracted so he could sneak out before they put attention back on him. None of the boys liked visiting the Widow because of Tess and Sasha, but really it was the whole lot of them. Paul wasn't on good terms with the brother, Marko feared the Widow and the attention she liked to bestow on him, and all of them just hated having to pay visits in general. If they had their own way, they would have never bothered going to the house, but by Max's orders, they had no choice. It was the gatherings they hated. Having to dress up all tidy, and hear conversations of things that would have bored any human to death was just too much for them. Marko didn't really have to tag along, as Max only told Dwayne and David to go that night, but he only went along because he wanted to see their new addition again. Jasmine wasn't like the rest of them, not like her sisters at all. She didn't have the grace, the manners, or polished stature to fit in. She would have been better in their circle than with the Johnson's.

''Oh, Marko, why are you standing there. Are you not coming down?''

Tess strode into the room and Marko watched her in silence as she sat down at the dressing table, running the brush through her hair. ''I can't believe how I look.'' She inspected herself then. ''It's just awful''

''I didn't notice a thing.' Marko said with a grin, ready to happily amuse her. ''You look just as nice as you usually do''

''You are so adorable, darling Marko. You should stay with us. You'd fit in nicely, not like Jasmine. She is such a pest.''

''Where is she tonight?''

''Oh, in her room of course.'' Tess answered. ''Sulking, like she always does. She won't come out, so mother said to just leave her''

''I really do deteste her.'' Tess spoke again when Marko said nothing. ''I wish she would go. She just sits around, moping, grumbling, and she says such mean and vile things to me and Sasha. She is ill bred and horrid. Such a shame, too. She has such beauty, but her disgusting personality ruins her. Anyway, I am going back downstairs. Are you coming?''

Marko grinned. ''I might go see moody Jasmine''

Tess rolled her eyes. ''Why you want to do that I'll never know.'' Grabbing Marko's hand she led him along the hall. ''Jasmine, open up this door. Marko wants to say hello. Don't be so rude.''

Jasmine made no bother to answer.

Tess turned to Marko. ''See, she really is just the most ill bred, vile-''

''Only to you sister.''

Tess looked away from Marko. ''About time you open this door. Stop sulking and say hello to Marko.''

''Does Marko need you to be here to say hello, Tess?'' Jasmine stood against the door frame, a not so pleasant look on her face as she spoke to her sister.

Giving Jasmine a disgusted look, Tess left without a word.

* * *

''I think I should go in a minute''

''I think you should stay.''

Boadicea smiled lightly, before flicking Paul on the cheek. ''Not all of us party everynight, all night long. Do you ever go to sleep?''

Paul looked at her. ''Do you always ask so many questions and banter on?''

A blush spread its way up her cheeks and she looked away. ''I won't say anything then.''

''Ah, I'm joking, babe.'' He sat up. ''I am only...'' Goose bumps erupted all over her skin when Paul came behind her, gently nuzzling on her neck. ''Joking''

''Hmmmmm. I really have to go now, Paul. It's getting really late and I'm pretty tired.''

Boadicea paused when his hand slipped underneath her skirt.

''Why not stay out longer, and we can have some fun?''

''No'' It was said a little too firmly.

''Alright, alright, I get the hint.'' He moved away from her and without giving her one of his cheeky winks or grins, he pulled her up from the sand without a word. Guilt swam then, and Boadicea bit her lip. She could have stayed out, in fact she wanted to, but she didn't want to be with him too much. As the saying went, you can always get too much of a good thing. And by fun, she knew what he meant, and she wanted to stay more. Yes, she wanted him bad.

''Are you annoyed, Paul?''

This time he smiled. ''Nah, it's cool, doll.''

''I guess I could stay out longer.'' A contemplating look came.

''Forget it. Don't stay out longer just because I want you to.''

''Oh, shut up.'' She lightly hit him. ''I want to stay out, but...

''But what?''

'There's not much too do now.''

He smiled, embracing her. ''We can find something to do.''

''I'm pretty hungry and I have sand all over me. I'm in desperate need of a shower.''

''Hmmmm, well I can take you somewhere for food, and as for showering, we can always go out back to mine and clean you up.'' That grin widened, eyes all teasing.

''I...''

''Mmmmmm?'' Paul crushed her closer to him.

''I have no more excuses.''

Paul laughed. ''So what do you want to do?''

Boadicea shrugged lightly, all nervous inside. ''Yours?''


	15. Chapter 15

Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter. I appreciate all the feedback I'm getting.

* * *

Where they stopped only gave a great wave of confusion to Boadicea. He said he was taking her to his, but all she saw were rocks and the great big view of the pacific ocean, a monstrous grave of black water and high waves that snarled as they rose together, as if they were trying to drag her from off the cliff into the icy depth. It was cold too where they were, a soaring gusty wind that blew straight through her, threatening to knock her off her very feet.

Not to mention it was partially dark, all but the bright light that shone on them when the light from the lighthouse moved around. She was thankful for that. Boadicea never did like the dark and though she was with Paul, her fear didn't subside.

It was the sort of place that would have fitted the dead perfect. She thought as she rubbed her shoulders vigorously . A creepy, dark, cold place that one would have thought ghosts would have taken a liking too.

And she realised that she was still sitting on the bike, arms still wrapped tightly around Paul, teeth lightly chattering together. He was still as a statue, not one speck of movement forming. If it hadn't of been for his chest moving up and down, he could have easily looked dead. She was scared. When the sea snarled and roared louder she expected a great black serpent of a monster to come up from the water, sharp teeth, monstrous eyes and horrible, slimy, tentacles ready to drag her down with it. The fog made her on edge too, causing all her hairs to stand on a sharp end. What if a ghost came out from the thick, dense, fog, ready to drag her down into hell? Her imagination was getting the better of her, but she couldn't stop. Of course she never believed in a word she was thinking but the darkness was getting the better of her. It crushed all bravery and strength in those who feared it, leaving them to be meek, defenceless, and small. Boadicea felt just like that.

''Paul, where are we?''

There came no answer until she said it twice more, the last being a rather small, quiet, frightened, plea for him to speak.

''Huh?'' He glanced at her from behind his shoulder then, a coming look on his face that showed he had forgotten that she was even with him. A horrible knot of fear and panic laced in her stomach. All trust had gone. She wanted to go. She didn't want to stay with him any longer. There was something very wrong.

''I said, where are we?'' The blueness of his eyes seemed cold, far away, and she was sure she detected the glimpse of anger burning in them. Boadicea didn't like those eyes and she found herself avoiding them, but he still remained watching her. Where was the smile, the softness, and stupidity of his words? It wasn't like Paul.

''Home''

Arms became untangled from around him and he got off the bike without a syllable said, the clanging of his boots coming into contact with the rocks, grinding them beneath the soles of his feet. She watched the chains on his jeans move from side to side, as if she were fascinated in what she saw. No, her eyes watched, but Boadicea was looking through it all, wary, cold, hungry, and no longer imaging him kissing her tenderly on the throat or seeing them tangled together beneath silk sheets and linen cushions. The lust was no longer present and she regretted leaving the beach to go with him. He didn't even help her off the bike and only a spare of a glance was given when she nearly went tripping over one of the rocks, catching herself just in time before her head nearly came into contact with the ground. No hand was offered to help her up. Paul wasn't even looking at her. There came no laughs and the words, silly Boadicea when she stood. He didn't even offer her his jacket though he knew she was standing behind him, rubbing her arms in attempt to fight the bitter cold.

''I...'' Teeth chattered together so much, words couldn't even be formed.

What was she doing? Did she really know Paul that well? Now she only thought herself to be stupid, because really she knew nothing of him. Why was she brought to a cliff, what was wrong with Paul, and what made her say yes of the offer to go to his. Like. Yes, she liked Paul, but despite her growing infatuation with him, they were still strangers. If he had been his usual self, Boadicea probably wouldn't have even questioned anything. How did she know what he was really planning. Was he going to do something horrible to her with his friends? She wasn't ignorant of his reputation on the boardwalk to those who knew him. Paul was mean and she feared he was going to pull a horrible prank on her.

''Let's rock n roll then, doll.''

That laughter brought her back around, the terrifying image of him pushing her over the cliff disappearing like a puff of smoke as they met eyes. His eyes weren't so dark, so foreign, and full of icy coldness and sharp biting anger, but neither were they soft, or amused, like they so usually were. Blank. It was a blank expression, un- emotional and distant.

Hesitation came forth but Paul was already walking on ahead, and she watched him slip into the fog a second later, his figure no longer to be seen, the sound of his footsteps becoming distant until nothing was heard.

Oh she wanted to go. Home, curled under the sheets and wrapped in a blanket by the warmth. She didn't want to stay where she was but then she didn't want to venture into the fog alone. Now Paul was no longer with her, her ears seemed to be concentrating hard on the noises around her. The sea almost seemed to be laughing at her, ready to take its chance to rise up over the cliff and take her with it. The wind even seemed to have increased in strength, teaming up with the pacific. It wanted to blow her over the cliff.

''Paul?'' The rocks crunched again and Boadicea whirled around, only meeting the dark and the fog that roamed with it. Though she didn't want to be with Paul any longer, being alone was even worse. Trembles came and she realised with high embarrassment that she was sniffling, tears beginning to slowly run down her stone cold cheeks.

''Paul?'' She practically screamed out his name the second time, only to hear her voice shout back to her, repeating the same thing. She expected him to come out from the fog but he never. He had left her all alone, cold, and near enough trapped in fear. Her feet were numb, and with a greater knot of panic, she started to walk further into the mass of the fog, trembling like the last winter leaf clinging onto a tree.

How could he leave her?

''Boadicea''

The wind almost whispered her name in a distant caress, and her feet froze into place.

''Paul?''

''I'm here''

Wiping her eyes, she looked around, being greeted by nothing but the repeat of her name and a lonely emptiness inside. He was playing with her. Lurking in the shadows, probably amused at the fright upon her face.

''Where are you?'' Her eyes were red sore, and a small headache began to come on from the coldness of her ears. It was so cold upon the cliff, not like the warm summers air like it was when they were upon the beach. She thought of ghosts wrapped in chains, coming from the oceans depth. Monsters from horrible tales creeped into her head, and an inkling feeling came that she was being watched. Paul it probably was, still playing a mean, horrible, game, but she pictured it to be ghosts and monsters of the dark, preying on her with watchful eyes.

The sea was no longer laughing or growling and the wind had become nothing but a quiet breeze, though the air became thick with the fog that travelled in, making it near impossible for her to see the rocks beneath her feet.

''Stop playing, Paul.'' A knot of annoyance crawled onto her face, evaporating the fear for a few seconds. ''Come out''

''Who's Paul?''

The voice didn't belong to him and her hands became damp with sweat, skin erupting in goose pimples and the beat of her heart increasing dramatically. She felt sick with fear and she began to cry like a baby again. The voice laughed, and Boadicea found herself shielding her eyes when it moved closer to her. Oh mean, cruel, person she thought with a bitter sadness. And she thought he liked her, but he was just like all the rest.

''Behind you.''

A cold hand came down on her shoulder and screams started up, sobs of Paul spilling from her lips seconds later. It was a ghost. There was a ghost on the cliff with her. She knew the hand didn't belong to Paul, she could tell. It was going to take her to the bottom of the ocean, wrap her in chains and tie her down with it. She didn't want to die.

It didn't stay long on her shoulder and still making a horrible scream, she whirled around, finding nothing to be in front of her, but the fog and the darkness wrapping around her like a cloak.

Flapping of wings started, like a thousand birds flocking together, and Boadicea's watery eyes moved upwards, only seeing the black sky and the little red and yellow lights moving across it. There wasn't even time for her to do anything else because before she knew it she was falling down to the ground, all the weight from her body going. She felt like a big flop of jelly, weak, paralysed, and immobile.

But she still wanted Paul. Home. She wanted to go home too. The tears fell like an endless river down her face, sobs and whimpers still continuing. It had all been going good, right until they came onto the cliff.

''Boadicea.'' A hand wrapped around the top of her arm from out of nowhere, hoisting her roughly up from the ground. Blue eyes met brown and Boadicea moved away from Paul.

''What's wrong?'' His eyes took in her cut and bloodied feet, causing a hunger to form, before seeing the dampness upon her cheeks and the redness of her eyes. Her whole body quivered from the cold, lips trembling from the small cries that continued.

''You left me, Paul. You left me.''

''Look I-''

He didn't even finish his words as he was suddenly given a sharp right hook, the sound of the punch echoing all around them. If he didn't heal, he sure would have had a nice big bruise. For someone who was so small, Boadicea delivered one hell of a hit he had to admit. He cursed Marko and his twisted games. The little midget hadn't fucked off like Paul had told him to when they arrived. He wanted to stick around and see her fully up front in the flesh.

It had been a scuffle between them then, and though Boadicea had obviously been frightened being left alone in the dark, Paul would have rather received a good beating off her for him leaving her there, or letting her go with him and risking the chance of her getting hurt from one of them. That and he had no plans on letting her see what he really was.

''You horrible, selfish, heartless bastard.''

''Babe, let me explain, please.''

''No, you left me here, Paul. I bet you found it funny scaring me like that.''

He couldn't exactly tell her it was Marko, so he fully took the blame.

''I was just having some fun. Forgive me?''

''I want to go home.''

Paul pulled a face.

''You don't even want me here. I saw what you were like when you got off the bike. Your face said it all.''

''That wasn't because of you, babe. Don't go. Stay with me for a bit.''

''I'm cold and hungry. I've had enough.''

''Right.'' With a sigh he picked her up, ignoring her protests and offensive words.

''I love it when you talk dirty.''

Boadicea wasn't taking the joke. She only hit him hard, demanding him to let her go. Paul pretended not to hear, and instead he began to sing, a smile curving as more foul language came from her lips. She wasn't as high mannered as she liked to come across and though her innocence had grown on him, for it was something he wanted to consume from her, he always did like winding her up till she snapped.

''I really do hate you sometimes.''

A laugh rumbled in his chest. ''I know but I wager your like is greater than your hate for me, doll face, so I'm cool with that.''

Boadicea screamed in frustration. She really did hate him sometimes. It was okay for him as he stood back and laughed as she was frightened, and though he gave an apology in his own way, she knew he wasn't half as sorry and that he found it all amusing. Yes, he was charming, sweet, and funny, but Paul was mean. She doubted she'd get used to it, especially when his mean side was directed towards her.

''You warmer now, Boadicea?''

Her shaking had stopped, but her feet were stinging, not to mention stone cold. ''Er, where are we going?'' She watched his feet move down the rusty metal stairs, and she bit her lip with an uneasy discomfort when it shook. It wasn't safe she could tell as she saw the rusting of it all.

''I told you, home.

''Home?'' She repeated with a puzzled frown.

''Yeah, down there see.''

Her eyes followed to where he was looking and her eyebrows shot up in surprise. A small crack in the cliff wall appeared, dark, small, and surrounded by nothing but jagged rocks, a great net of moss and debrew hanging from the top of the entrance.

''You live in there?'' The tone of shock rang out fresh and sharp.

When the nod came from Paul as a confirmation, Boadicea shook her head.

She thought he was joking, right until they slipped inside, being greeted by nothing but the blackness, coldness, and the howling of the wind. Gently setting her down, Paul moved towards the tin barrels, beginning to set each one, within, alight. Boadicea came into view after the second was lit, hands rubbing up arms, frame shaking violently. But she wasn't looking at him, like he with her.

Her eyes moved around the spacious room, and wonder and awe began to fill them with each item and bits of junk she looked at. Surf boards were all lined up together in one corner, graffiti was spilled all around on bits of cardboard and pieces of metal, shiny objects like trinkets and ornaments were on old broken cabinets, doors hanging on hinges that showed even more useless junk inside. Shells, starfish and bits of feathers hung from pieces of strings on the ceiling of an old master bed that was situated in the corner of the room, twinkling and swirling from the breeze that hit them, giving a clinking lullaby sound. Candle sticks were worn down, hard red wax smeared on old grimy plates they were placed on. And when she thought she couldn't take in more, something caught her attention. Dark eyes stared at her from across the room, unmoving and frozen. A large poster, of none other than Jim Morrison, stared at her, and she waited for him to wink or say something.

But he remained watching. She took her eyes off him, looking at even more things. It was surreal but amazing, even more wondrous when she saw a fountain in the middle of the lobby, filled with brass candle holders, goblets, bowls, and other things she wasn't familiar with.

''You live here?'' She finally looked at Paul who was perched on the edge of an old moth eaten tattered couch, leisurely rolling himself a joint. She watched as his bony, slim, fingers levelled out the tobacco and leaves within the paper, high concentration on his face. She really did hate drugs but she knew she had nothing to say to it. It was his home after all.

''Yeah, pretty cool.'' He looked at her and beckoned her over with a nod of the head. '' You look cold. Stand by the fire and warm your hands.''

''So, how many of you live here then?'' It was total bliss when she stood by the barrel, feeling the heat hit her like a fan on full speed.

''Four of us.'' Seeing she was more comfortable standing, Paul took it as the chance to hog all the couch, stretching himself along it, feet dangling over the side. Taking more than a toke on the joint, he lent his head backwards on the arm rest then, one arm coming behind his neck. He just watched her then. It was weird shit for him to take a girl back to the cave and not plan to eat her by the end of the night. In fact she was only the second girl to come back with him to the cave for not the intentions of feeding upon her.

He shook his head a little.

''So how long you in Santa Carla for then?''

Boadicea straightened up and turned to look at him. ''A week or two.''

''Damn, that's pretty shit. You should stay longer. We haven't even had any fun yet.'' A cheeky wink was given.

He got his typical eye roll. He didn't actually want her to go. He thought he would have had more time with her, that she would have stayed longer.

''I have a job back in England waiting for me, a home and my two darling pets that probably are missing me like crazy.''

''Pfff, they're animals, doll. They're probably having a blast without you. Shit, why you caring about two measly animals for.''

''I think Pumpkin would have clawed your eyes out if she were here.''

''Ah, not a fur ball lover are you? Flea bags. Should hang all cats by their tails on a fence, the balls with the males. Furry, whiny, things.''

Boadicea stared at him for a second before lifting up her middle finger, causing Paul to choke on the smoke he had just inhaled. She clamped her lips then, suppressing a giggle herself.

He shook his head and then met her eyes. Her heart thundered through her chest and though she had the desire to look away from him she couldn't. She wanted him all over again. If not for nerves she would have probably already pounced on him like she so wanted to do. Well, that was the reason she said yes of the offer to going to his. After all, no guy takes a woman back so late into the night just for tea and biscuits, did they? She mused to herself. She knew that at least.

''Right.'' Paul jumped up from the couch, snapping her thoughts to an end. ''Maybe I should take you back now?'' He seemed serious and Boadicea buried the disappointment. Her cheeks flamed in silent embarrassment at what she presumed was going to happen, which didn't go undetected.

''Unless you want to stay longer?''

The excitement came back, a dizzying feeling and a warm butter sensation filtering throughout her body. ''Just to talk and...hang out and stuff.''

''And stuff'' Paul mused. It became silent for a second and he filled the space between them then, hands gently grabbing her face. She smelt the drugs on him and the brine of the pacific, all mixed into one sickly smell. ''Just stuff''

Lips came down on hers, parting them for access to play tongues. Her taste drove him wild and his hand moved, running its way down her back, all the way to the hem of her skirt before he grouped her ass, crushing her closer to him. The other hand knotted itself into her hair, letting the softness run between his fingers.

How they ended up on the bed she didn't know, only she was now pushed firmly down onto the mattress, him pressed up on top of her, fingers gently sliding up underneath her blouse, running across her smooth skin. Nerves pricked within, flutters came into her stomach, that of butterflies, and she became strongly aroused. In a second he had her sitting up, rushing to rip the blouse off her and see the nakedness of her breasts. They became as hard as the rocks outside once exposed and he greedily claimed them, latching onto one of the nipples, which got a surprised gasp before she yanked at his hair, pulling him closer in. What the hell he was doing to her she had no idea, only she wanted more, more of the kisses, and the sucking and the nibbling. She liked where his hands went, she liked how his fingers teased her skin in ghostly caresses, and she enjoyed the meeting of lips, of tongue and bruises.

There was nothing holding her back only worry one of his friends would return to the cave, but Paul didn't seem to be giving a shit so she was sure they were going to be alone for quite awhile. There wasn't going to be any talking either so it seemed.

Not that she cared.

She watched in silence as he removed his jacket, and then top, throwing it anywhere on the floor, exposing perfect marble, smooth, skin. Well, all but the piercing in one of his nipples which really did cause a raised eyebrow. Paul just merely grinned, and biting her lip in an awkward and nervous way she traced her fingers along his chest, before moving them downwards, not stopping till she went right past his navel. They met eyes then and not being able to control the shaking of her fingers she got rid of the belt, then proceeded to remove his jeans, wanting, wanting, wanting.

A second later clothes were flying in all directions, both in a mad rush to remove each single item they wore. She was pushed back down onto the bed then, lips meeting in a fiery, strong, kiss, skin upon skin coming into contact.

After that it was just pure, selfish, greedy, pleasure.

* * *

Max never had children in his human life, though he always remembered he wanted a girl and a boy, the male to come first, but for some reason it never did happen. He had been a respected, wealthy, man, very well liked amongst people, and married to a pretty land owners daughter, not to mention owning a big house with lots of acres of land. In fact they were married for quite a long time, until she died tragically in child birth, along with what would have been his first child, a daughter of that. After that, Max had kept himself to himself, shutting himself away from the world.

He was twenty seven then, she had been twenty five. It wasn't good to not have a wife at that age, but even after years of her death, Max didn't find anyone else, not for some time. He didn't want anyone else. Half of him had died with her. It would have been perfect, the perfect family that he had always envisioned. They would have welcomed the birth of their child and then tried for another one again not so far down the line. Two children was enough, but Max wouldn't have really minded more. When it had come to Stephanie he would have done anything for her.

She had always been so weak and frail though, but Max hadn't thought anything of it when finding out she was with child. He only pictured the ''after''.

Now he had five children, four of those that still resided with him. Though he never admitted it, David was his favourite, David the lost cause, David the lost boy. When Max had first encountered him, that was who David had been. Just a homeless kid, stealing to survive, fighting to earn money, mugging to sell the items he theft. Max had seen many of those, but David had caught his eye in a completely different way upon seeing him. Max didn't approve of killing children unless it strictly had to be done, though there had been times he had come across others like David, mel nourished from starvation, sick from the cold, hurt from the fights and the danger they put themselves into. It was a simple matter of survival for them. David, though, he took in, fed him, clothed him, and then gave him money when he had put him back on the street. At that time it was just him helping out another kid, like he had done so many other times, but their meetings became more frequent. It was only a few weeks later from their first even encounter that David became a vampire, and from that day right up until the present, he had remained loyal and faithful to Max, protecting him and obeying him at all costs.

Ran sacking the video store, feeding on his customers or even employers wasn't counted as being disobeying in David's eyes. Everything else he was obedient to. And like Max, David was extremely protective of his family, especially that of their master.

Max took care of his children, was well liked upon the boardwalk, but inside, he was just as dark and dank as his children, if not even more. The devil reincarnated was what Max was. David had thought it many times. If Max wasn't so dangerous and sharp, David would have probably tried to be up level with his father, being in charge beside instead of being a sort of dog that looked up at it's master waiting for food.

Sure Max wasn't the perfect father, but he did the best with what he had.

* * *

''Should he be told now?''

Dwayne kicked his foot against the beam with an unreadable expression as his eyes grazed over the flock of people in the distance. He never did say much but his opinion was the one that mattered most to David. His was the one that David always listened to the most. Perhaps that was why he was always so quiet. He was a deeper thinker instead. He watched instead of spoke, observed more than the rest did. Dwayne had a sharp eye for small details and problems in the cracks. Unlike the rest, he caught onto more than anyone else.

His eyes drew away from olive skin and green eyes when a sickening crunch came from behind him. He drowned out the laughs from the pretty girl he had been observing whilst David fed, eyes still blank and expressionless.

The body was dropped to the floor carelessly, and David drew out his packet of marlboros, like he always did after a feed. The flame from the match fed the end of the cigarette, creating it to become a deep red, orangy, glow. Smoke clouded around the two like a dark veil and leisurely stepping over the body of the dead guy, he moved towards Dwayne with a patient and almost blank gaze as himself. Nothing was said when David gave him a cigarette. Dwayne didn't really smoke much but the occasional smoke was had, now being one of the times.

''Paul is slow, but let's not insult his stupidity that much. We both know he is aware of the situation and knows what the outcome of it all will be.''

''And the girl?'' Dwayne's head turned a millimetre towards where David stood, ever so calm. Their eyes met for a second, and both seemed to be having a silent battle.

''The girl is of no importance.'' He said at last, looking away to where Dwayne had been staring not minutes before. ''We have no fear of that at this present time. Let's not worry ourselves about that.''

''But the girl David'' Dwayne repeated more firmly, dark eyes changing in emotion for just a second. ''Ignorance is bliss. But you know the outcome of that too. Of what's going on. Let us not be fools and pretend it will sort itself out. We should kill her.''

''Dwayne, old friend. Don't think I am ignoring what is happening, or that I am brushing away your thoughts on the matter. You are aware and know that I value yours the most but at this time, I have more to be concerned about that some girl Paul is hard for.''

''I believe it's more than...a girl Paul is hard for. No good will come from this.''

David said nothing.

''We should get her out of the picture and sort out this mess before it gets even worse. Paul is a target right now. Why he alone I don't know but I don't like this, David. That girl will bring trouble down on us, just like before.

Nothing was said again but David's expression changed, an almost bitter grimace.

''Paul wouldn't understand''

''I think he can get over it. The protection of us is more important than a girl Paul is going weak for. He would understand-''

''In the long run.'' David snapped, getting just a fraction of a dark look from Dwayne. ''I am not having him fucking moping around for years after.''

''So what do you propose we do? Leave them alone, see what happens down the line? No good will come from this.'' He repeated again. ''We should kill her. Either way, it's going to hit rock bottom. Paul isn't ignorant of what's happening but he's pushing it all aside.''

''Leave Paul to me.''

And before Dwayne could get another word in, David was gone.

Another vicious kick was given at the beam. His eyes dark eyes glowed just for a second.

David said nothing about having the girl left alone at the end of the disagreement.


End file.
